IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


1.0 


I.I 


II 28     112,5 


iilM 

136 


2.2 


2.0 


1.8 


1.25 

1.4      1.6 

6"     

► 

V] 


^ 


//, 


a 


^a 


^ 


/ 


y 


^i 


m 


Photographic 

Sciences 
Corporation 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  NY.  14580 

(716)  872-4503 


"V 


CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHM/ICMH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Microreproductions 


Institut  Canadian  de  microreproductions  historiques 


1980 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notes/Notes  techniques  et  bibliographiques 


The  Institute  has  attempted  to  obtain  the  best 
original  copy  available  for  filming.  Features  of  this 
copy  which  may  be  bibliographically  unique, 
which  may  alter  any  of  the  images  in  the 
reproduction,  or  which  may  significantly  change 
the  usual  method  of  filming,  are  checked  below. 


D 


n 


n 

D 
D 
D 


D 


Coloured  covers/ 
Couverture  de  couleur 


I      I    Covers  damaged/ 


Couverture  endommagde 

Covers  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
Couverture  restaur^e  et/ou  pellicul6e 


I      I    Cover  title  missing/ 


D 


Le  titre  de  couverture  manque 


Coloured  maps/ 

Cartes  giographiques  en  couleur 


Coloured  ink  (i.e.  other  than  blue  or  black)/ 
Encre  de  couleur  (i.e.  autre  que  bleue  ou  noire) 


Coloured  plates  and/or  illustrations/ 
Planches  et/ou  illustrations  en  couleur 

Bound  with  other  material/ 
Reli6  avec  d'autres  documents 


Tight  binding  may  cause  shadows  or  distortion 
along  interior  margin/ 

La  reliure  serr6e  peut  causer  de  I'ombre  ou  de  la 
distortion  le  long  de  la  marge  int^rieure 

Blank  leaves  added  during  restoration  may 
appear  within  the  text.  Whenever  possible,  these 
have  been  omitted  from  filming/ 
II  se  peut  que  certaines  pages  blanches  ajoutdes 
lors  d'une  restauration  apparaissent  dans  le  texte, 
mais,  lorsque  cela  dtait  possible,  ces  pages  n'ont 
pas  6t6  film^es. 

Additional  comments:/ 
Commentaires  suppl6mentaires; 


L'Institut  a  microfilm^  le  meilleur  exemplaire 
qu'il  lui  a  M  possible  de  se  procurer.  Les  details 
de  cet  exemplaire  qui  sont  peut-dtre  uniques  du 
point  de  vue  bibliographique,  qui  peuvent  modifier 
une  image  reproduite,  ou  qui  peuvent  exiger  une 
modification  dans  la  methods  normale  de  filmage 
sont  indiquis  ci-des&?us. 


I      I   Coloured  pages/ 


D 


Pages  de  couleur 

Pages  damaged/ 
Pages  endommagies 

Pages  restored  and/oi 

Pages  restaur^es  et/ou  pellicul6es 

Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxei 
Pages  ddcolor^es,  tachetdes  ou  piqudes 

Pages  detached/ 
Pages  d6tach6es 


I — I  Pages  damaged/ 

I      I  Pages  restored  and/or  laminated/ 

I — I  Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxed/ 

I      I  Pages  detached/ 


I      I    Showthrough/ 


Transparence 


□    Quality  of  print  varies/ 
Quality  indgale  de  ('impression 

I      I    Includes  supplementary  material/ 


Comprend  du  materiel  suppldmentaire 

Only  edition  available/ 
Seule  Mition  disponible 


Pages  wholly  or  partially  obscured  by  errata 
slips,  tissues,  etc.,  have  been  refilmed  to 
ensure  the  best  possible  image/ 
Les  pages  totalement  ou  partiellement 
obscurcies  par  un  feuillet  d'errata,  une  pelure, 
etc.,  ont  6X6  filmdes  d  nouveau  de  fapon  d 
obtenir  la  meilleure  image  possible. 


This  item  is  filmed  at  the  reduction  ratio  checked  below/ 

Ce  document  est  film^  au  taux  de  rMurtion  indiqu6  ci-dessous. 

10X  14X  18X  22X 


26X 


30X 


J 


12X 


16X 


20X 


24X 


28X 


32X 


tails 
(  du 
odifier 
'  une 
mage 


The  copy  filmed  here  has  been  reproduced  thanks 
to  the  generosity  of: 

Morisset  Library 
University  of  Ottawa 

The  Images  appearing  here  are  the  best  quality 
possible  considering  the  condition  and  legibility 
of  the  original  copy  and  In  keeping  with  the 
filming  contract  specifications. 


L'exemplaire  filmi  fut  reproduit  grAce  d  la 
g6n6rosit6  de: 

Biblioth^ue  Morisset 
University  d'Ottawa 

Les  images  suivantes  ont  6t6  reproduites  avec  le 
plus  grand  soin,  compte  tenu  de  la  condition  et 
de  la  nettetd  de  rexemplaire  ii\m6,  et  en 
conformity  avec  les  conditions  du  contrat  de 
filmage. 


Original  copies  in  printed  paper  covers  are  filmed 
beginning  with  the  front  cover  and  ending  on 
the  last  page  with  a  printed  or  illustrated  Impres- 
sion, or  the  back  cover  when  appropriate.  All 
other  original  copies  are  filmed  beginning  on  the 
first  page  with  a  printed  or  illustrated  impres- 
sion, and  ending  on  the  last  page  with  a  printed 
or  illustrated  impression. 


Les  exemplaires  originaux  dont  la  couverture  en 
papier  est  imprimis  sont  film6s  en  commen^ant 
par  le  premier  plat  et  en  terminant  soit  par  la 
dernidre  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration.  soit  par  le  second 
plat,  salon  le  cas.  Tous  les  autres  exemplaires 
originaux  sont  film6s  en  commenpant  par  la 
premidre  page  qui  comporte  Uiie  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration  et  en  terminant  par 
la  dernidre  page  qui  comporte  une  telle 
empreinte. 


The  last  recorded  frame  on  each  microfiche 
shall  contain  the  symbol  — ^-  (meaning  "CON- 
TINUED"), or  the  symbol  y  (meaning  "END"), 
whichever  applies. 


Un  des  symboles  suivants  apparaTtra  sur  la 
dernidre  image  de  cheque  microfiche,  selon  le 
cas:  le  symbols  — »>  signifie  "A  SUIVRE",  le 
symbols  V  signifie  "FIN". 


Maps,  plates,  charts,  etc.,  may  be  filmed  at 
different  reduction  ratios.  Those  too  large  to  be 
entirely  included  in  one  exposure  are  filmed 
beginning  in  the  upper  left  hand  corner,  left  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  many  frames  as 
required.  The  following  diagrams  illustrate  the 
method: 


Les  cartes,  planches,  tableaux,  etc.,  peuvent  dtre 
filmds  d  des  taux  de  reduction  diffdrents. 
Lorsque  le  document  est  trop  grand  pour  dtre 
reproduit  en  un  seul  cliche,  il  est  film6  A  partir 
de  Tangle  sup6rieur  gauche,  de  gauche  d  droite, 
et  de  haut  en  bas.  en  prenant  le  nombre 
d'images  ndcessaire.  Les  diagrammes  suivants 
illustrent  la  mithode. 


irrata 
to 


pelure, 
nd 


n 

32X 


1 

2 

3 

1 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

SKETCHES 


K^o'T        \K)     'sA^  A  '  t?:t>-5i 


AND 


ANECDOTES 


BV 


ANDREW     WAiSLESS, 


Author  of  "  Poems  and  Songs,"  Etc. 


•  John  Tainsons  wallet  frae  hut  to  hen. 
Whiffinaleeries  for  women  and  men/" 


DETROIT.  MICH.: 
PrBMRHED  BY  Andrbw  Wanlehs.  No.  1.5  Orand  Riveb  Avbnuc. 

1891. 


im 


ti 


fi^*' 


^versitas 


S^   BIBLIOTHECA 


t:dv  .•>!■'- 


.^ 


:*m. 


'M 


:<f^,- 


Entered  according  to  the  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1R91,  by 

A.  VVANLESS. 
In  the  office  of  the  Librarian  of  Cons^ress  at  WaRhington. 


WM.  F.  MOORK.  PRINTER, 
DETROIT, 


Detroit,  November,  1891. 


i  R  i 


(. .. 


';■     f 


TO 
HERBERT  BOWEN,  Eh<^  , 

THEHE 

•SKETCHES    ANIi    ANECDOTES 

ARE 

RESPECTFL'LL V    DEDICATED 

BY   THE 

AUTHOR. 


lY. 


•   SHE  LIKED  HIM  RALE  WEEL. 

The  spring  had  brought  out  the  greeu  leaf  ou  tlie  trees, 
And  the  flow'ra  were  unfalding  their  sweets  to  the  bees, 
When  Jock  says  to  Jenny,  "  Come.  Jenny,  agree, 
And  just  say  tlie  bit  word  that  ye'll  marry  me." 
She  held  down  her  head  like  a  lily  sac  meek, 
And  the  blush  o'  the  rose  fled  awa  frae  her  cheek, 
And  she  said,  "  Gang  awa,  man  !  your  head's  in  a  creel." 
She  didna  let  on  that  she  liked  him  rale  wed. 

Aye  !  she  liked  him  rale  weel, 

O  !  she  liked  him  rale  weel, 
But  she  didna  let  on  that  she  liked  him  ral''  weel. 

Now  Jock  says,  "  Oh,  Jenny,  for  a  twalmoiith  and  mair. 
Ye  ha'e  kept  me  just  hanging  'tween  hope  and  despair, 
But,  Oh  !  Jenny,  last  night  something  whispca'd  to  me— 
That  I'd  better  lie  down  at  the  dyke  side  and  dee." 
To  keep  Jock  in  life,  she  gave  in  to  be  tied, 
And  soon  they  were  book'd,  and  three  times  llicy  were  cried  ; 
Love  danced  in  Jock's  heart,  and  hope  joined  the  reel  ; 
He  was  sure  that  his  Jenny  did  like  him  rale  weel. 

Aye !  she  liked  him  rale  weel, 

Oh  !  she  liked  him  rale  weel. 
But  she  never  let  on  that  she  liked  him  rale  weel. 


When  the  wedding  day  cam',  to  the  manse  they  did  stap. 
At  the  door  they  gat  welcome  frae  Mr.  Dunlap, 
Wha  chained  them  to  love's  matrimonial  stake  ; 
Syne  they  a'  took  a  dram  and  a  mouthfu'  o'  cake. 
Then  the  minister  said,  "Jock,  be  kind  to  your  Jenny, 
Nae  langer  she's  tied  to  the  string  o'  her  Minnie  ; 
Noo,  Jenny,  will  ye  aye  be  couthie  and  leal  V  " 
"Yes,  sir,"  simper'd  she,  "for  I  like  him  rale  weel." 

Aye  !  she  liked  him  rale  weel, 

O  !  she  liked  him  rale  weel  ; 
Quo'  he,  "  That's  but  nat'ral,  to  like  him  rale  weel." 


PREFACE. 


/pEGARDING  the  following  "Sketches  and  Anecdotes."  it 
was  my  primary  design,  after  each,  to  trace  the  derivation 
and  attempt  to  explain  the  old  and  obsolete  words  that  are  tlicn.*- 
in  introduced.  This  plan,  on  second  consideration,  was  laid 
aside,  thinking  that,  if  adopted,  it  would  cumber  the  pages  with 
matter  uninteresting  to  the  general  reader. 

From  my  early  years,  the  old,  (juaiut  Scotch  words  and  sayings 
have  had  a  peculiar  charm.  These  words  and  phrases  of  the  ohi 
people,  iu  lowly  life,  I  took  delight  to  harbor  in  my  memory. 
In  my  leisure  moments  these  were  written  down  in  much  the 
same  manner  as  they  fell  from  the  lips  of  the  narrators. 

A  few  of  these  "Sketches  and  Anecdotes"  have  already 
appeared  in  "The  Scottish  American,"  "The  Detroit  Free  Press," 
and  "The  Detroit  Evening  News."  A  number  of  them,  how- 
ever, appear  in  this  collection  for  the  first  time. 

It  has  been  the  practice  of  several  Scottish  Authors  to  prefix 
to  their  works  a  few  doleful  sentences  on  the  decay  of  tlje 
Scottish  language  and  literature.  Regarding  this,  I  am  of  a 
contrary  opinion.  The  patriotic  words,  the  manly  phrases  and 
the  witty  remarks,  will,  I  have  no  doubt,  be  ever  cherished  and 
appreciated  by  my  countrymen,  and  by  those  of  kiudred 
nationalities. 

ANDREW    WANLESS. 


:\i 


f 


0 

0 


OONTKISITS. 


A  Bad  End 28 

AChange 1H« 

A  ChriHtian  Country 106 

A  Close  Call ISW 

Action  and  Re-action  iM 

A  Dog  Fight no 

ADrapo' Yon 880 

A  Faithful  Wife a85 

A  Fearful  Struggle 8« 

A  Fine  Sensation mi 

AFineStart 104 

A  Fine  Feast 75 

A  Fractious  Horse loa 

A  Freak  of  Nature 151 

Againiit  Revolutions HO 

A  Grand  View !W 

A  Great  Threat 1»J 

A  Hoi  Night... 181 

A  Jovial  Soldier. 48 

A  Kiss 88 

A  l^miiieriiioor  ( 'lit'ese 18 

A  Lainineniioor  Legend 85 

A  l^ss  und  a  Luiitcrn 17 

A  Lay  of  Ablu'y  St.  Bathiins 804 

A  legend  uf  Selkirk 73 

Almost Wl 

A  Melancholy  Cow Wt 

A  Merciful  Dispensation 138 

A  Mistake 118 

Andrew  and  Maggie 38 

An  Exploring  Expedition 85 

A  Nicht  wi'  Robin 83 

A  Poor  Excuse  89 

A  Poor  Investment 188 

A  Proud  Man 31 

A  Queer  Kettle 108 

Are  Your  Own  Skirts  Clear  r 118 

A  Round  of  Swearing 36 

A  Sad  Mistake 98 

AStout  Heart  188 

A  Wet  Weaver 119 

AWish 119 

Babby  Bell  and  Jock  Reid lOd 

Before  She  Began 79 

Better  BeSure 101 

Betty  Blair's  Courtship. 187 

BltoAboot.  878 


Konnte  Maggie  Graham 81(1 

Bring  Me  WHuit  Ye  Like mt 

Bring  the  ('aniplior Iii9 

Brothers  and  Sisters 808 

Burning  Up M 

Cauld  Weather 186 

( 'elebrating  the  Fourth 177 

Come  Hame  W 

Consolation  Rejected 186 

Culloden 180 

Curing  a  Fat  Wife 113 

Doing  His  Best 108 

Eating  Words  m 

Eleven  ConimaiidMD'nts. ....        148 
Everybody's  Here 90 

Fair  Weather 41 

False  Historians \M 

Fare  Ye  Well 40 

Finis  300 

Francie  Dewar M 

FulM  Irey hounds 80 

(iaiig.  Mr.  Brisbane 115 

General  tJrant Ill 

Generalship     19 

(Jill,  S<"ott  und  the  Ventril)H|uist  .  W 
Go  Home 175 

Half  Hanged  Maggie 154 

Have  ye  Gotten  any  Siller  r  131 

Have  ye  ony  Bawhet-s  •« 84 

Heads  to  Discourses .87 

He  had  the  Lumbago  98 

He's  Nobody  81 

He  Stood  ond  Groaned 97 

He  Took  Several  Cheerers 68 

He  Uncovered  His  Head 44 

Hiding  the  Teapot 85 

His  Age 71 

His  Sign  Board 81 

Home,  Sweet  Home.   63 

Hope 85 

Hot  Weather 813 

How  Changed  are  the  Times 898 


' 


wm 


CO.NTFNTf". 


vH. 


iKTiorancf  in  BIIm «'-! 

I'll  Bnrk  M.vs*»If W 

ni  Tnk«'  li  L.K.U  at  Him 71 

I'll  Take  ^  fiiir  Mcnsiin' 'J<i 

Importcil  mill  Kxporti'*!     7ft 

In  and  Ont 190 

InformntidM  Wanted    lan 

\h  Your  Honor  ii  Vri^st  *     134 

I  Wish  YhW.-II 1f*7 

I  Wnn<I.T  In  Mnnr  Ye. '-{72 

.Tamos  Thomson IftS 

.l«>an  (lorflon'H  PorriflK*"-P'it .         Iftl 

JeanJf  Deans 188 

Jpanio's  f 'oiuin' 138 

John  and  Will .152 

John  Arnotts  Bairns 17ft 

John  «lass 'J» 

John  MfWait  and  Jean  MrRa»'     .17H 
Johnni»' Artnstroii}; 'M 

Keep  Your  K«'ttl»' 14 

lj\mini«'loo W 

Let  Him  l.fioSH. W 

Love  Rick    l.V> 

May  Hf'aven  Fru-jrive  Him 4!i 

McCallmii  iuid  the  SVitch 2T4 

Mr.  and -Mrs*.  Tainaon 26fl 

Mrs.  Sherlock     liio 

Mud  ami  Huat 140 

My  Beantiful  Tulips  87 

My  Bonnie  Bairn 88.S 

My  Jennie  .   . .    .    70 

My  Lov»> 41 

Natural  Wool    1S» 

Nell  Prondfoot Sflfi 

Never  Botlier  a  Sick  Shoemaker  .  05 

Never  Marry  a  Widow 12ft 

No  Earthly  .Toy 27 

No  Expericiioc . .  5fi 

No  Relation 88 

NoStrenKtli 65 

Nothing  Ct-rtain 67 

Nothing  Li^t't  65 

Now  and  Tlu-n    113 

O.  Lucy,  will  ye  Ganjf  wi"  Me  y . . .  44 

Ord,  the  Circus  Man 286 

Otherwise  Engaged    168 

Outs  and  Ins  of  Matrimony    297 


Palmer'n  Exhibition .     0 

I'afrlotlBm        13 

Pay  on  Delivery .  ..lOft 

Revii'wing  the  Circumstances       'JOfc 
U»'v.  .lohn  Brown  and  Kcrgusnon  28i> 

Roherf  Tannaliill  72 

Uohin 81 

Rf .use  Him  Up 15« 

Sandy's  Well 215 

Say  NoSlfire 81 

Scotland       117 

Shakespeare 107 

She  Liked  Him  Rale  Weel 4 

She  I^st  Her  Wig 124 

She  Pursed  Up  Her  Lips 179 

Shoot  Him  fanny Ml 

Sir  Walter  Scott     M 

Sir  Walter  Scott's  r»rinking-ciip     1ft 

Something  Worst*    8fi 

Spigot  and  TMn 104 

Steadfast  Love 30 

Stf>ne  Masons  Wanted   ft9 

Stop 8 

Strength  of  Will  «7 

Strike  the  Iron 109 

Sweel  Belle  Isle 105 

Sweetest  Flower 88 

Taken  Apart OS 

The  Auld  Sangs 217 

The  Banks  o"  Doon 866 

The  Black  Douglas 91 

The  Burning  o'  the  Breoks       .      2.59 

The  Church  Bell 80 

The  Coming  of  the  Robin 185 

The  Cutting  of  the  Corsets Ill 

The  Daft  Days 198 

The  Downfall  of  the  Stove 280 

The  Drouthy  Year 231 

The  Fairies 103 

The  First  Bite 12 

The  Giant  of  St.  Abbs 169 

The  Horrors  of  War 184 

The  Judge  Laugh«-d .')7 

The  I,a88ie  wi"  Lint-white  Locks..  17 

The  Last  Man 8 

The  Liberty  of  the  Press 62 

The  Links  o"  Love  168 

The  Miller's  Daughter 1.30 

The  Minister  and  the  Man 282 

The  Power  of  Snuff 194 


4\ 


d 

0 


Tlil 


CONTENT*. 


-r 


Th*'  Road  to  Matrimony 80 

The  Rung  and  Mnuff  Curo 181 

TIh-  Harnirt  Tunnel 8M 

Tho  Hpiiinlnfr  Wheel M 

Thf  S(or.v  of  I'rlnee  Charles  .     .  832 

The  Hwmi  of  Avon. 4V 

The  Town  of  Wyandotte ?O0 

The  W/iHhiitK  Day Hft 

Tin-  Wc(i|>on  Kfll IRT 

Tlu'  WliiHth' Bl.'W »» 

The  Wife  of  Tjiniiiiermnor 1»W) 

The  Wooden  Ia'h 141 

The  Wronjf  Kcnl 21 

They  Keliimefl  In  a  Hurry lOS 

TlionmH  (.'aniphcll 87 


Too  Dear ]|g 

Tw«t  Love  T>ettent iffi 

Upward  Teart 88 

What  Are  Ye  Dolnjc  Here  * 138 

What  He  Hafffred 148 

Widow  Nailor 77 

Wives  Can  po  No  Wronj? 801 

Women  in  our  Honrn  of  Kase  .      lOrt 

Working  the  Oracle ;«) 

Wor«l  of  All 87 

You  May  Go HO 

You  Shall  Have  It 75 

Yoiith  vs.  Age  IBS 


THE  LAST  MAN. 


A  fUtwn  tlif  strf'ot  .ludpp  Winder  camp. 

And  he  had  his  pold  specks  on. 
And  there  he  met,  a-comlnff  up, 

His  old  friend  William  Jackson. 

Quoth  William  "  How's  the  Judge,  this  morn  '/ 

Quoth  he  "  I'm  worse  than  ill  : 
Ah,  me,  I  see  by  slow  deirrecs 

I'm  creepin/r  down  the  hill. 

"Last  night,  as  on  my  bed  I  lay, 

The  thought  did  me  astound, 
That  soon  not  one  ^ood  man  will  l»e 

Alive  above  the  ground." 


STOP. 


John  Cranky  was  a  wee  bit  man. 

Knack-kneed  and  bent  twa  fauld  ; 
He  had  a  wife,  and  by  my  faith, 

She  was  baith  big  and  bauld. 

A(!  day  he  opened  out  on  her 
When  she  was  at  the  washing. 

And  he  wi'  waspish  words  ga'e  lier 
A  virulent  tongue-lasbing. 

She  looked  and  said  "Just  stop  your  yaff; 

If  ye  no  stop  it  soon 
I'll  ram  ye  head-lang  in  the  kirn 

And  dash  the  dasher  doon. " 


f.t 


I 


SKETCHES  AND  A^TXDOTES. 


PALMER'S  KXIIIBITION. 


^ 


SoriH'  folk  iniiy  sing  'bout  dove-cved  piw't'. 

And  sotiu-  'bout  strife  and  war. 
AikI  some  about  a  iiiaid  or  wife 

May  Htrikc  the  lijj;ht  guitar, 
And  some  may  write  'IvmU  moons  and  ntars 

To  show  tiieir  i  rudition. 
But  as  for  me,  I'll  sing  wi'  pith 

'Bout  Palmer's  exhibition. 

We  sent  Tom  Palmer  'cross  the  sea, 

Unto  a  place  called  Spain, 
But  ev'rything  went  wrong,  so  we 

Recalled  him  back  again: 
The  bungling  blockheads  in  New  York 

Are  no  worth  recognition. 
The  deil  a  ane  o'  them  could  run 

Columbia's  exhibition! 

Tom  Palmer  is  a  marvelous  man, 

He's  travele<l  many  lands, 
And  tongues  of  many  nations  he 

Has  at  his  linger  ends ; 
The  Spanish.  Welsh,  the  French  and  Dutch, 

Hindoo  and  the  Chinese, 
These  he  can  write  and  also  speak 

With  purity  and  ease. 

So  back  our  Tom  has  come  again, 

Dispelling  our  distress. 
And  our  Columbian  Fair  he'll  make 

A  great  and  grand  success. 
From  polar  seas  he'll  bring  a  whale 

In  a  first-class  condition. 

And  horses,  mules  and  mares  will  grace 

Tom  Palmer's  exhibition. 
2 


10 


SKETCHES    AND    AN'ECDOTES. 


P'rom  England  he'll  import  roast  beef. 

From  Scotland  mountain  dew, 
From  Ireland  milk  and  blarney-stones, 

Poteen  and  Irish  stew; 
And  heathen  gods  and  i^oddesses. 

From  hinds  of  superstition, 
Will  all  be  seen  for  fifty  cents 

At  Palmer's  exhil)ilion. 

From  sunny  south  he  will  express, 

From  Uncle  Sam's  estate, 
Tobacco,  alligators,  rice, 

The  orange  and  the  date. 
The  breeches  bible  will  be  seen, 

And  the  revised  edition; 
These  Ingersoll  will  lecture  frum 

At  Palmer's  exhibition. 

Cows,  sheep,  and  dogs,  hogs,  hens  and  cats 

Will  all  be  gather'd  there, 
Likewise  the  foumart  and  the  fox, 

The  badger  and  the  bear; 
The  feather'd  songsters  will  display 

Their  wonderful  tuition, 
And  sing  with  mellow  note  their  songs 

At  Palmer's  exhibition. 

A  female  elephant  lie'll  bring 

From  India's  coral  strands. 
But  oh,  we  pray  that  she  will  not 

Be  left  upon  his  hands. 
The  fishes  of  the  mighty  deep 

In  all  their  varied  ranks. 
Will  ply  their  fins,  and  siiake  their  tails 

In  countless  tubs  and  lank^^. 

The  hurdy-gurdy,  kettle-drum, 

The  bagpipe  and  bassoon, 
The  bugle  and  the  hunting-horn 

Will  all  be  played  in  tune  ; 
And  ladies  rare  will  sing  and  dance, 

Bedecked  in  rich  attire; 
Wae's  me!  their  charms,  I  more  than  dread, 

Will  set  our  hearts  on  tire! 


SKBTCIIES    AXD    ANECDOTES. 


Volcjinic  stones,  and  peat,  and  ttirf 

In  their  progressive  stages, 
Will  there  be  seen,  with  dates  to  prove 

And  certify  their  ages. 
A  Ciinnon  from  the  wars  he'll  show 

That  once  wrought  devastation, 
He'll  on  it  mount,  and  Peace  will  smile 

With  pleasing  approbation. 

Beds,  sheets  and  blankets  will  be  there, 

And  wooden  work  in  plenty, 
A  spinning-wheel  I'm  boumi  to  show 

That  I  got  from  my  aunty  ; 
It«  tiraper-pin,  its  leg  is  broke. 

The  bairnies  iiave  abused  it, 
But  wha'll  expect  'twould  be  as  good 

As  when  my  aunty  used  it  ? 

My  aunty's  spinning-wheel  calls  up 

A  routh  o'  sad  reflections. 
But  what's  the  use,  I  sometimes  think, 

Of  grievous  recollections. 
Oh!  if  my  uunty  was  alive, 

I'd  bet  my  head  o'  hair 
I'd  take  her  in  a  Pullman  car 

To  Thomas  Palmer's  fair. 

The  exhibition  will  be  rich, 

In  articles  of  yore, 
Upon  a  nail  will  hang  the  breeks 

That  our  tirst  parent  wore  : 
His  tartan  plaid,  and  guid  (jlaymo're, 

And  if  accounts  are  truf. 
We'll  see  Miss  Eva's  brid-il  bed, 

And  also  her  trousseau. 

Since  writing  the  above  I've  heard, 

But  maybe  it's  a  lee. 
That  Gladstone  witii  a  load  o'  chips 

Is  coming  o'er  the  sea. 
That  Parnell,  'Brien  and  Balfour 

Have  not  gone  to  perdition. 
But  they  will  visit  Uncle  Sam— 

And  Palmer's  exhibition. 


U 


WJ  fil 


c 

1 

0 


12 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


Jim  Blaine  will  meet  the  "  Grand  Old  Man," 

And  under  Tom's  direction, 
The  twa  will  have  a  grand  set-to 

'Bout  free  trade  and  protection. 
My  certy!  how  these  two  old  rooks 

Will  crow  and  rug  and  rive, 
To  see  the  sport,  loshi  how  I  wish 

My  aunty  was  alive! 

My  grannie  writes  frae  Scotland's  isle 

That  if  her  life  is  spar'd, 
She'll  bring  a  cart  o'  curly  greens 

Frae  out  her  aiii  kail-yard, 
And  eke  a  spade,  a  harl  and  grap<% 

A  milksythe  and  a  churn, 
And  a  Lochaber  axe  that  Bruce 

Had  used  at  Bannockburn! 

Now  all  ye  people  far  and  near, 

Just  keep  the  date  in  view. 
The  exliibition  will  begin 

In  eighteen-ninety-two; 
And  I'll  be  there,  if  I  am  spar'd, 

And  give  the  folk  a  sneeshin' 
< )'  good  Scotch  snuff  from  ray  snuff-box 

At  Palmer's  exhibition. 


THE  FIRST  BITE  IS  THE  WORST. 

William  Ilardie  was  born  in  Hawick,  Scotland,  and 
inherited  a  very  strong  constitution.  He  emigrated  to 
Detroit,  and  to  use  a  vulgar  phrase  he  had  a  stomach 
that  could  digest^horse  nails.  He  fell  sick  and  when  in 
bed  his  appetite  fairly  left  him.  To  wile  his  appetite 
back,  one  day,  Mrs.  Hardie  roasted  a  chicken  to  a  turn 
and  took  it  to  his  bedside.  '*  Take  it  awa,"  cried  Wil- 
liam, "  my  stomach  has  become  sic  a  coward  it  winna 
even  fight  wi'  a  chicken."  "  Tuts,"  said  she,  "  what  non- 
sense, tak'  it  by  the  leg  and  try  and  eat  a  bit.  Come 
away  now  and  fa'  to — the  first  bite  is  aye  the  warst." 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


13 


PATRIOTISM. 

In  the  year  1803,  great  perplexity  and  wrath  prevail- 
ed in  Scotland.  The  cry  arose  that  the  French  were  on 
the  eve  of  invading  her  shores.  The  beacon  fires  blazed 
on  the  hills,  and  her  Volunteers  rallied  to  the  cry  *'Wha 
dare  middle  wi'  me  ? "  The  following  lines  from  the 
popular  song  entitled  "  Symon  and  Janet,"  point  out 
that  every  man  and  mother's  son  were  prepared  to  strike 
determined  and  dexterous  blows  for  liberty  and  for 
their  native  land  : — 

"O,  Symon,  the  F'renchies  are  landed, 

Come  quick  man  and  slip  on  yer  shoou  ; 
Our  signals  I  see  them  extended 
Like  red  rising  rays  frae  the  moon." 
"  Hoot !  cheer  up,  dear  Janet  be  hearty. 
For  ere  the  next  sun  may  gang  down, 
Wha'  kens  but  I'll  shoot  Bonaparte, 
And  end  my  auld  days  in  renown. " 

The  Dunse  Volunteers  gathered  to  a  man,  and  they 
made  the  welkin'  ring  to  the  old  war-cry — "Dunse 
dings  a'."  Armed  to  the  teeth  they  took  the  turnpike 
road  for  Haddington,  and  as  they  were  passing  the 
romantic  village  of  Longformacup,  out  from  her  house 
rushed  Jean  Carpenter,  wi'  a  red  het  poker  in  her  hand. 
On  observing  this  Rab  Dale  roars  out  to  her — "  Jean, 
for  the  love  o'  heaven,  gang  into  the  hoose,  and  we'll  do 
our  best  to  kill  a'  the  Frenchmen  without  the  assistance 
o' your  weapon."  "Na,  na!"  quo'  she,  "I'll  no  back 
out.  I'll  kilt  my  coats  and  gang  alang  wi'  ye."  Wi' 
this  she  flourished  the  poker  over  her  head,  and  wi' 
patriotic  fervency  exclaimed  —  "Rab!  I  canna  fecht 
muckle,  but  blast  the  French  deevils,  I  will  let  them  see 
which  side  I  am  on." 


c 

0 


14 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


i 


i'  1 


KEEP  YOUR  KETTLE. 

The  tea-kettle  is  the  grandest  musical  instrument  in 
the  Scottish  household.    When  it  begins  to  sing,  a  pleas- 
ing smile  overspreads  the  faces  o'  the  auld  and   the 
young  o'  baith  sexes.     If  it  could  speak  as  well  as  it  can 
sing,  it  could  tell  mony  a  strange  story.     And  I  may 
venture  to  remark  that  if  these  stories  were  printed  into 
books  they  wad  fill  the  Detroit  Public  Library  up  to  the 
very  rafters.     Ae  night  Ruben  Tamson  waited  on  Miss 
Mysie  Jobson — a  lass  who  had  a  bit  property  left  to  her 
by  her  grandfather,  auld  Saunders  Jobson,  wha  spent 
the  bulk  o'  his  days  as  a  cowfeeder,  and  wha  died  o'  the 
cholera  at  Haddington  in  the  year  183.3.     Now  Ruben 
gae'd  to  Mysie  on  nae  needless  errand,  for  it  was  his 
design  to  ask  her  hand,  and,  if  she  didna'  resist,  they 
wad  gang  to  the  minister  and  get  married  forthwith  and 
forever.     Ruben  sat  doon  and  the  kettle  sang  and  sang, 
but  she  never  as  much  as  asked  him  if  he  had  a  mouth. 
By  this  Ruben  saw  which  way  the  land  lay.     Like  an 
uninvited  guest  he  sat  upon  thorns.    He  found  that  hope 
was  a  guid  breakfast  but  an  unco  bad  supper,  and  wi'  as 
guid  a  grace  as  he  could  pit  on  he  bade  Mysie  fareweel. 
Now,  Ruben  was  a  local  poet  o'  some  celebrity,  and  next 
mornin'  he  sent  her  a  letter  which  was  thus  addressed, 
"  Post  haste — to  Miss  Mysie  Jobson,"  and  it  contained 
the  following  : — 

Your  kettle  hings  and  sings  awa 

Most  pleasant  to  the  view,  mem, 
My  faith  !  I'd  sooner  hear  its  sang 

Thau  hear  a  sang  frae  you,  mem. 

Last  night  I  sat  upon  your  chair 

Bamboozled  and  neglected, 
While  I,  to  say  the  very  least, 

A  cup  o'  tea  exiiected. 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


15 


Ye  lookit  east,  ye  lookit  west, 
Ye  lookit  north,  and  south,  mem  ; 

Ye  glower'd  at  me  as  if  I  had 
Been  born  without  a  mouth,  mem. 

Sue  soon  as  1  had  turned  my  back 

I  truly  do  believe,  mem, 
That  ye  sat  doon  and  drank  your  tea 

And  snieker'd  in  your  sleeve,  mem. 

But,  I  hu'e  sworn  a  deadly  uith, 

A  deatlly  aith  is  it,  mem, 
That  on  another  chair  o'  yours 

Again  I'll  never  sit,  mem. 

When  night  comes  on,  wi'your*  ain  liands 

Ye  may  tie  on  your  pirnie. 
And  gang  to  bed,  or  ye  may  gang 

For  me  to  Hecklebirnie. 

Away  wi'  houses,  land  and  gear — 
The  harbingers  o'  strife,  mem, 

Instead  of  them  may  heaven  grant 
To  me  a  loving  wife,  mem. 

I  ken  a  lass  up  in  the  glen 
And  she's  excelled  by  nane,  mem, 

111  bring  her  hame,  and  soon  we'll  ha'<.* 
A  kettle  o'  our  ain,  mem. 

Wi'  cauld  disdain  ye  treated  me. 

Yet  still  I  wish  ye  well,  mem, 
But  by  my  saul  ye  e'en  may  keep 

Your  kettle  to  yoursel',  mem. 

I've  written  thus  on  this  braid  page 

To  let  ye  understand,  mem, 
That  I  have  given  her  my  heart, 

And  soon  she'll  ha'e  my  hand,  mem. 
On  Monday  night  I  will  be  wed, 

Aud  if  ye  are  in  fettle, 
Ye  e'en  may  come  and  see  my  bride — 

Her  yetlin'  pot  and  kettle. 
And  now  I  lay  aside  my  pen. 

As  I've  no  more  to  say,  mem. 
But  this,  farewell,  Mysie,  farewell. 

Farewell  for  night  and  day,  mem  ! 


0 


.i! 


16 


SKETCHES    AND    AXECDOTKS. 


'I 


I 

;   i 

rl 


;i 


ll 


!ii 


SIR  WALTER  SCOTT'S  DRINKING-CUP. 
Tom  Purdie,  as  is  well  kno\yn,  was  Sir  Walter  Scott's 
faithful  attendant  in  the  da^-^s  of  his  joys  and  of  his 
sorrows.  Shortly  before  the  death  of  that  good  and 
great  man,  he  presented  Tom  with  a  silver  drinking-cup. 
After  Tom's  death,  this  cup  remained  in  the  possession 
of  his  widow,  who  resided  in  a  small  cottage  on  the 
Abbotsford  estate,  Robert  Howden,  who  was  born  and 
brought  up  in  Galashiels,  but  who  is  now  a  residenter  of 
Detroit,  relates  to  me  the  following  :  "  About  the  year 
1836,  twa  or  three  o'  my  acquaintances  and  masel'  took 
it  into  our  heads  to  gang  and  see  auld  Mrs,  Purdie. 
We  gaed  into  her  house  and  we  found  her  sitting  at  the 
fireside  toasting  her  taes.  She  was  unco  fat — she  was 
like  a  sack  tied  in  the  middle,  and  as  braid  as  she  was 
lang.  She  warsled  up,  and  she  ga'e  a  guid  natured 
laugh,  and  she  said,  '  I  ken  what  ye  want,  ye  vagabonds 
that  ye  are.  Ye  didna  come  to  see  me — ye  cam'  to  get 
a  drink  oot  o'  Sir  Walter's  drinking-cup,  and  that  ye  will 
get  wi'  perfect  guid  will.'  After  we  had  a'  gotten  a 
drink,  she  raised  her  hands  and  said,  'Mycerty!  cal- 
lants,  ye  ought  to  be  proud — ye  ne'er  gat  sic'  a  drink  in 
a'  your  born  days.  My  certy  !  ye  ought  to  be  maiu 
than  proud  that  ye  ha'e  gat  mouths  to  drink  oot  o'  Sir 
Walter's  drinking-cup  ! '" 


A  GREAT  THREAT. 
John  Broadwood  had  a  son  wha  was  the  ring-leader 
o'  a'  mischief.  Ac  day  John  says  to  him — "  Now,  Rob- 
bie, I  see  that  ye  winna  behave  j'erser  a'  that  I  can  say 
or  do,  but  the  next  time  ye  mis-behave  yersel'  I  will  get 
the  loan  o'  Tinker  Turn's  cuddy-ass,  and  I  will  pit  ye  on 
the  back  o't,  and  I  will  mak'  baith  yours  and  the 
cuddy's  ears  stand  up  on  the  perpendicular." 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


17 


A  LASS  AND  A  LANTERN 

In  the  days  o'  my  prime  when  I  lived  wi'  my  mitlior, 

My  lieart  and  my  foot  were  as  light  as  a  feather; 

My  father  was  gane,  and  he  left  me  his  heir 

Sac  we'd  uaething  to  do  but  to  till  and  fetch  mair. 

My  mither  grew  sick,  and  sair  she  did  grieve 

When  she  heard  I  was  courting  the  daugliters  o'  Eve, 

Losh  me,  how  she  raved  when  she  heard  I  gade  saunteriu' 

At  the  dead  hours  o'  night  wi"  a  lass  and  a  lantern. 

She  glunched  and  siie  gloomed  and  siie  said  in  her  spite 

That  the  wiles  o'  the  women  wad  kill  me  outright; 

But  dule  to  the  day  when  away  she  was  ta'en. 

For  the  like  o'  my  mither  I'll  ne'er  see  again. 

I  remembered  her  words  and  I  siglied  and  I  said, 

That  Betsey,  for  me,  may  die  an  auld  maid; 

But  strange  to  relate  again  I  gade  saunterin*. 

At  the  dead  hours  o'  night  wi'  my  lass  and  a  lantern! 

"  Dear  Betsy,"  says  I,  "  Oh,  take  care  of  your  feet. 
Look  out  for  tlio  ghiur  and  the  wind  and  the  weet," 
Then  my  heart  would  be  tilled  wi'  the  fondest  delight 
When  she'd  say  "  never  mind,  ye  may  blaw  oot  the  light." 
I'd  blaw  oot  the  light,  and  01  how  sae  fain 
I'd  kiss  her  sweet  lips  and  ca'  her  my  aiu ; 
She  now  is  my  ain,  and  nae  mair  I  gang  saunterin' 
At  the  dead  hours  o'  night  wi'  a  lass  and  a  lantern. 


THE  LASSIE  WI'  THE  LINT  WHITE  LOCKS. 

John  Howell,  an  aged  Scotchman,  informed  me  that 
he  was  at  one  time  acquainted  with  one  of  the  idols  of 
Burns,  the  poet — "The  Lassie  wi'  the  Lint  White 
Locks."  She  was  then  cook  at  the  Armandale  Arras 
Inn,  in  Moffat,  but  alas  !  all  her  beauty  of  face  and  form 
had  departed.  Instead  of  the  lint  white  locks,  her  head 
was  covered  with  a  wig  of  extraordinary  dimensions. 
"  O,  man,"  said  John,  "  when  she  spak  o'  Burns  the 
tears  ran  down  her  withered  cheeks.  Losh,  man,  it  was 
waesome  to  look  at  her.     Time  had  wrought  upon  her 


0 


18 


SK£TCUBS    AXD    ANECDOTES. 


til; 


I  ^! 


wonderful  changes.  If  Burns  bad  risen  frae  the  dead 
he  wadna'  ha'e  kent  her.  She  was,  I  trow,  a  queer 
lookin'  body.  I  never  can  get  her  image  oot  o'  my  mind. 
Her  appearance  sticks  to  me  like  a  burr.  Man!  I  can 
see  her  now  standin'  afore  rae  just  as  plain  as  a  pike- 
staff. I  said  to  her,  *  Ma  woman,  will  you  take  a  dramV* 
*  I  wat  I  will,'  quo'  she,  and  wi'  this  we  baith  drank  to 
the  memory  o'  Burns.  Then  to  cheer  her  up  I  sang 
over  the  following: 

"  Lassie  wi'  the  lint  white  locks, 
Bonnie  lassie,  artless  lassie, 
AVilt  thou  wi'  me  tent  the  Hocks, 
Wilt  thou  be  my  dearie,  O?" 

But  nothing  would  cheer  her  up.  8he  lookit  doon  to 
the  floor.  She  shook  her  head.  She  raised  her  hand 
and — pointed  to  her  wig." 


A  LAMMERMOOR  CHEESE. 

"Does  your  honour  like  cheese? "  said  Jennie.    "Like  if."  said  the  Duke, 
"cakes  and  cheese  are  a  dinner  for  an  Emperor,  let  alone  a  Highlandman." 

Some  folk  mak'  a  meltith  o'  tatties  and  saut, 
Home  kitchen  their  brose  wi'  a  sirple  o'  maut; 
Awa  wi'  sic  dainties!  bring  me  if  ye  please 
A  trencher  o'  scones,  and  a  Lammermoor  cheese. 

Some  folk  ha'e  owre  little,  some  fill  and  fetch  mair, 
Yet  blessings  are  parted — ilk  ane  has  their  share, 
But  the  loon  should  be  lash'd  till  he  fa's  on  his  knees. 
Wha  wadna'  say  graioe  owre  a  Lammermoor  cheese. 

When  my  banes  are  a'  suir  wi'  the  dargs  o'  the  days, 
And  at  the  fireside  I  sit  toasting  my  tues, 
There's  naething  gies  comfort,  or  brings  me  mair  ease, 
Than  a  whang  frae  the  croon  o'  a  Lammermoor  cheese! 

When  hanuss'd  wi'  the  cares  and  the  clashes  o'  life, 
I'll  fight  wi'  my  shadow,  and  glunch  at  my  wife; 
But  we  soon  get  as  sweet  as  twa  hlnnybees, 
When  gustin'  our  gabs  on  a  Lammermoor  cheese. 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTEK. 


\9 


When  a  hairnie  oam'  bame,  and  the  doctor  awa, 
And  the  neighbours  a'  round  ga'e  a  canny  bit  ca', 
My  certy!  our  hearts  were  set  up  wi'  a  lieeze, 
Wlien  they  praised  tlie  wee  pet— and— tlie  Laninicrnioor 
cheese. 

A  bit  cheese  in  their  pockets  the  young  hisces  stow, 
And  at  night  syne  they  place  it  'neath  pillow  and  pow; 
Then  they  dream,  and  they  dream,    till  their  heads  arc 

a-blceze 
Bout  sweethearts,  and  kirks,  and  a  Lammermoor  cheese! 

There's  poor  Jennie  Deans,  wha  to  London  gaed  south. 
To  speak  to  Argyle  wi'  her  ain  word  o'  mouth; 
When  her  purpose  was  gained,  quo'  she  "  if  you  please, 
Wad  yer  honour  accept  o'  a  Lammermoor  cheese?" 

"  Ho,  lassie,"  quo'  he,  "I'm  content  wi'  my  brose  — 
An  auld  Scottish  sang,  and  a  tsneesh  for  my  nose, 
Yet  fain  I  wad  be  if  my  loof  ye  wad  grease, 
Wi'  twa  or  three  stane  o'  your  Lammermoor  cheese!" 

Then  here's  to  auld  Scotland,  her  hills  and  her  dales. 
And  here's  to  her  bowies,  her  bickers,  and  pails, 
May  she  aye  ha'e  a  bannock  o"  barley  or  pease. 
And  to  crown  my  best  wishes — a  Lammermoor  cheese! 


GENERALSHIP. 

Some  years  ago  Mr.  George  Roy,  Glasgow,  published 
a  work  called  "  Generalship."  In  this  work  he  con- 
tended that  married  wives  betrayed  mair  generalship 
than  was  betrayed  by  either  the  Duke  o'  Wellington  or 
Napoleon  Bonaparte.  Wordsworth  says — "  That  the 
boy  is  father  of  the  man,"  but  I  say  that  the  maiden 
fair  is  frequently  mother  o'  the  mother;  but  to  illustrate. 
Ae  mornin'  Lucky  Mackay  says  to  her  daughter — "  Noo, 
Johannah,  ma  dear,  I  understand  that  ye  ha'e  fairly 
heckled  and  hooked  John  McGill,  and  as  it  is  a  well 
known  fact  that  he  has  a  weel-lilled  purse  I  wad  see  to 


so 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


I 


I'' 

I, 


'•■I 


it,  afore  ye  are  married,  that  ye  will  stand  by  your  gun 
and  demand  a  suitable  marriage  portion,  as  ye  ken  '  a 
bird  in  the  hand  is  worth  twa  in  the  bush.'"  "  Mither," 
quo'  Johannah,  "  I  ha'ena  gat  John  McGill  as  yet.  I'm 
no  exactly  sure  o'  him  either,  as  men-folk  are  as  slippery 
as  eels,  but  under  the  circumstances,  mither,  I  will  tak' 
guid  care  no  to  spur  ma  horse  afore  I  get  into  the 
saddle."  

FULL  GREYHOUNDS. 
Jock  Rodgers,  a  gamekeeper,  was  instructed  to  take 
some  greyhounds  from  Dunse  up  to  Byrecleugh,  the 
hunting  seat  of  the  Duke  of  Roxburgh.  He  was  com- 
manded to  feed  them  well  by  the  way,  as  the  duke  was 
very  careful  of  his  greyhounds,  and  would  sooner  part 
with  his  own  heart's  blood  than  part  with  one  of  them. 
When  Jock,  with  the  hounds,  reached  Longformacus  he 
gave  them  as  many  red  herrings  as  they  could  eat,  and 
in  the  after  journey  they  drank  immoderate  quantities 
of  water  from  the  clear  streams  that  ran  down  the  hill- 
sides. On  reaching  Byrecleugh  Jock  was  met  by  the 
duke,  who  with  wonder  exclaimed:  "  O,  what  plump 
greyhounds!  I  never  saw  such  plump  greyhounds  in 
all  my  born  days."  "Yes,  yes,"  quo' Jock,  "my  lord! 
they  look  as  if  they  werefou.^^ 


I'LL  TAKE  YOUR  MEASURE. 

In  Detroit  James  Sutherland  lived  and  was  as  kind- 
hearted  a  man  as  ever  drew  breath,  notwithstanding 
that  he  was  an  undertaker.  Some  boys,  who  knew  his 
kindly  qualities,  annoyed  him  greatly  by  ringing  his 
night  bell.  One  night  James  lost  his  temper,  and  he 
roared  after  them,  "  Ye  scorpions  that  ye  are,  ye  imps 
o'  Satan,  ye  born  wretches  o'  sin  and  misery — I'll  tak' 
yere  measure  yet." 


1% 


mm 


MKETCIIBS    AND    ANKCHOTKH. 


21 


KOUIN. 

|InRcrlb«'«l  to  R.  Wmilpss,  Samia,  <">nt.J 

I  hu'e  H  bird,  ii  boiinie  bird, 

And  K()I)iii  is  its  name, 
TwiiH  st'Ut  to  me  wi'  liindly  wordn 

Frae  my  iiuld  Scottisli  hame. 
And  wlien  it  cam'  unto  my  iiand 

It  looked  sac  dull  and  wae, 
Nue  doot  it  njissed  the  tlow'ry  glen 

The  burnie  and  the  brae. 

There's  raair  than  you,  my  bonnie  bird, 

Ila'e  croKsed  the  raging  main, 
Wha  mourn  the  blythe,  the  happy  day* 

Tliey'll  never  see  again. 
Sweet  bird!  Come  sing  a  sjing  to  me, 

Unmindfu'  o'  our  ills; 
And  let  us  think  we're  once  again 

Mang  our  ain  heather  hills. 

The  joyfu'  hours  o'  nameless  bliss, 

O,  come  ye  back  to  me; 
My  love!  my  lost!  again  we  meet 

Aneath  the  trysting-tree. 
0,  sing  to  rae.  my  bonnie  bird, 

And  ilka  note  o'  thine 
Will  conjure  up  the  gladsome  days — 

The  joys  o'  auld  lang  syne. 


THE  WRONG  SEAL. 
Before  the  introduction  of  the  penny  postage  system, 
the  envelope  was  rarely  or  ever  to  be  seen.  Letters 
were  generally  written  on  quarto  sheets  of  paper,  and 
folded  up  and  sealed  with  wax.  Every  man,  of  any  con- 
sequence, carried  a  bunch  of  seals  on  his  watch  chain, 
which  hung  dangling  down  from  his  watch-pocket  or 
spung.  A  number  of  ladies  sealed  their  letters  with  the 
end  of  their  thimbles,  and  this  manner  of  sealing  w^as 
designed  to  convey  the  impression  that  the  sender  was 
possessed  of  industrious  habits.     The  wafer  was  seldom 


^!li, 


d 
0 


r 


93 


HKETCIIES    AND    ANK<.DOTK8. 


H 


l! 

i 
il 


iii; 


i  :, 


used,  as  letters  thus  closed  could  be  easily  opened  by  the 
inquisitive,  by  holding  them  to  the  kettle  spout  when 
the  kettle  got  her  steam  up.  Thomas  Lilly's  wife  died, 
and  he  sent  letters  to  all  his  friends  to  attend  her  fun- 
eral. The  day  after  her  funeral  David  Peaden  came 
down  from  Kijpallet  and  he  called  upon  Thomas. 
"  David,"  quo'  Thomas.  "  I  was  disappointed  that  ye 
didna'  come  to  the  funeral."  "  How  could  ye  expert  me 
to  come  to  the  funeral?"  quo'  David,  "  when  on  the  seal 
o'  the  letter  was  the  motto — '  Ye  may  a'  gang  to  the 
deevil.' "  On  hearing  this  Thomas  raised  his  hands,  his 
chin  fell  upon  his  breast,  he  sank  into  a  chair,  and  he 
lost  his  breath  for  a  space.  When  this  was  regained, 
with  faltering  words  he  said,  "Mercy  me!  I  ha'e  sealed 
them  wi'  the  wrang  seal." 


A  GRAND  VIEW. 

One  day  Rab  Niel,  the  blacksmith  of  Longformacus, 
waited  on  the  laird  of  the  parish,  and  he  said  :  "  I  wish 
ye  guid  mornin',  laird,  and  I  hope  last  night  ye  had  a 
guid  night's  rest,  as  ye  are  weel  deservin'  o'  a'  the  mercies 
that  heaven  can  send,  and  I  wad  be  muckle  obliged  to  ye, 
forby  payment,  if  ye  wad  gi'e  me  pasture  for  ma  coo." 

"  Yes,  Rab,"  said  the  laird,  "ye  can  get  that — ye  can 
tak'  her  up  to  the  tap  o'  Dirrington  hill." 

"  But  there's  nae  grass  there,"  said  Rab.  "  There's 
niothing  there  to  feed  a  coo.  I'll  no  tak'  her  there — 
there's  naething  there  but  cauld  and  hunger  and  big 
stanes  and  muckle  rocks." 

"  I  ken  that,"  said  the  laird.  "  But,  guid  guide  us  a', 
Rab,  ye  dinna  tak'  into  consideration  what  a  grand  view 
she'll  ha'e!" 


IP , 

5    !■] 


SKETCHES    ANh    AXKCKOTEfl. 


ia 


JOHN  GLASS. 

Come  luiten,  lords  und  liulics  gay, 

To  this  aullientic  tale 
About  John  Glass,  a  publican, 

Who  lived  In  f.audcrdak'. 

He  still  may  be  alive  and  well. 

For  aujj:ht  that  I  can  say. 
Though  I've  not  heard  his  merry  laujjfh 

For  many  a  live  lon<?  day. 

When  young  he  went  into  the  wars. 

And  lo!  before  he  knew. 
A  ball  blew  olT  his  leg.  upon 

The  Meld  of  Waterloo. 

His  limb  was  dressed  and  he  received 

The  very  best  attention; 
And  when  they  brought  him  home  he  was 

Rewarded  with  a  pension. 

And  then  he  got  as  cross  a  wife 

As  Satan  e'er  invented, 
Yet  still,  John,  in  his  marriage  yoke, 

Was  no-ways  discontented. 

Although  she  did  not  imitate 

The  cooing  of  the  dove, 
Yet  still  she  loved  her  own  John  Glass 

With  an  undying  love. 

At  timiis  she'd  be  as  calm  and  sweet 

As  visions  beatific, 
And  then  about  his  ears  she'd  raise 

A  tempest  most  terrific. 

Although  her  waspish  words  at  times 
Would  sting  him  to  the  quick, 

He'd  stand  like  patience  painted  on, 
A  brose  or  porridge  stick. 

Had  John  possessed  a  vulgar  mind 

He  might  indulged  obscenity, 
But  though  she  lost  her  temper,  he 

Ne'er  lost  his  equanimity. 


(  I 


i  .1 


V 


d 


i 


m 


111 

"ill 


24 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


I've  known  some  n.en  who  patient  v-ere 

Up  to  the  very  handle; 
But  deil  a'  une  amang  them  a' 

Wi'  John  could  hold  a  candle. 

.John  had  a  sign,  and  on  one  side 

There  was  on  it  address'd — 
"Come  all  ye  weary  men  and  beasts, 

Come  in  and  take  u  rest " — 

And  on  the  other  side  he  had 

A  soldier  painted  blue. 
And  "  John  Glass  is  the  landlord,  who 

AVas  ehot  at  Waterloo." 

One  night  a  band  of  drunken  men 

Came  reeling  to  his  door; 
They  had  enough,  yet  still  they  were 

Determined  to  have  more. 

Now,  John  had  gone  unto  his  rest, 

His  wife  lay  by  his  side; 
She  rose  and  instantly  she  flung 

The  window  open  wide. 

And  then  she  cried:     "  Ye  drunken  swine, 

John  will  be  down  the  noo. 
He  now  is  sharp'ning  his  braid  sword 

He  had  at  Waterloo." 

These  words  were  launched  with  fine  effect 

And  strategetic  skill, 
The  drunkards  fled  until  they  gain'd 

The  dens  o'  Soutra  hill. 

Should  John  Glass  be  alive  and  well 

When  I  seek  Scotland's  strand, 
I'll  find  my  way  to  Lauderdale, 
And  grasp  him  by  the  hand ! 

But,  'bout  the  pranks  of  his  guidwife, 

I  will  not  even  moot  them ; 
It's  best,  ye  ken,  'bout  some  events, 

Just  to  say  nought  aboot  them. 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES.  26 


HIDING  THE  TEAPOT. 


AN  EXPLORING  EXPEDITION. 

One  morning  last  week  Mr.  Wagstaff  was  much  sur- 
prised wlien  he  received  sealed  instructions  from  Wash- 
ington to  go  to  the  foot  of  Woodward  avenue.  He 
went,  and  when  he  boarded  a  ship  the  sliip  weighed 
anchor  and  proceeded  on  her  voyage.  After  four  bells 
the  ship  sprung  a  leak  and  she  put  into  Walkerville. 
After  she  was  calked  and  fresli  water  procured  she  pro- 
ceeded, and  Mr.  Wagstaff  was,  after  a  most  tempestuous 
voj'age,  the  wind  blowing  from  the  north-northwest, 
safely  landed  upon  the  coast  of  Belle  Isle.  He  opened  his 
sealed  instructions  and  the  instructions  were  to  explore 
the  island  and  report  at  headquarters  Avithout  delay. 
The  natives  of  the  island  were  agreeably  surprised  to  see 
him,  as  they  had  never  seen  a  white  man  before.  He  gave 
them  rings,  buttons  and  other  trinkets,  at  which  they 
were  so  pleased  that  they  desired  him  to  sit  down  and 
rest  himself.  The  maidens  tiien  danced  and  sung 
around  him,  in  plaintive  strains,  and  the  song  resembled 
the  song  sung  by  the  maidens  in  honor  of  Mungo  Park, 
when  that  traveler  was  in  the  interior  of  Africa.    "  The 

poor  white  man,  faint  and  wearv,  came  and  sat  beneath 
3 


til' 


The  sun's  rays  came  down  very  hot  upon  James 
Dougherty  when  he  was  shingling  a  roof.  Early  in  the 
afternoon  he  thought  he  would  go  liome.  He  got  home 
and  found  Mrs.  Dougherty  and  a  few  friends  enjoying 
themselves.  When  they  saw  him  they  took  great  pains 
to  hide  the  teapot.  James,  however,  had  his  weather 
eye  open,  and  exclaimed: 

"It  is  not  for  nothin'  the  taypot  is  hid.  i  ' U 

For  I  guess  what  is  in  it  hy  smelling'  the  lid." 


M 


! 


n       C 

0 

0 


1 


f;  f  / 


t 


.1 


'!:, .! 


'ril 


lU 


iM 


26 


SKtTCHES    AND    AXECDOTES. 


our  tree.  He  has  no  mother  to  bring  him  milk — no  wife 
to  grind  his  corn."  After  the  dance  he  was  introduced 
to  the  king  of  the  island,  whoso  name  is  Ferguson,  who 
was  humming  over  a  song,  the  air  of  which  somewhat 
resembbd  the  air  of  the  Scotch  song  entitled  "  I'm  owre 
young  to  marry  yet."  The  king  immediately  supplied 
him  with  a  guide.  Mr.  Wagstaff  pushed  forward,  as 
there  was  no  time  to  be  lost,  and  he  saw  a  herd  of  deer, 
and  the  guide  informed  him  in  broken  English  that  the 
aboriginal  or  pristine  inhabitants  called  them  "  magnifi- 
cent creatures."  Mr.  Wagstaff  reports  that  the  soil  is 
alluvial  and  that  he  found  no  specimens  of  gold,  silver 
or  fossil  remains.  He  considers  that  the  island,  in  the 
course  of  time,  would  be  a  good  place  to  cultivate  a 
taste  for  bas;' -drums,  bag-pipes,  politicians,  hurdy- 
gurdies  and  other  wind  instruments.  The  report  will 
be  beautifully  embellished  with  engravings  descriptive 
of  the  savages  in  their  abnormal  condition;  it  is  now 
in  the  press,  and  book  agents  are  already  howling  like 
hungr}^  wolves  to  get  a  hold  of  it. 


A  ROUND  OF  SWEARING. 

Before  the  introduction  of  railroads  into  the  low- 
lands of  Scotland,  cadgers  and  carriers  were  very 
nTimerous.  In  my  earh^  life.  Will.  Howliston  was  the 
principal  carrier  l)etween  Dunse  and  the  city  of 
Edinburgh.  When  in  Edinburgh,  for  some  fault,  Will 
was  taken  before  the  maoristrates  and  fined  five  shil linos. 
When  he  returned  to  Dunse  he  bragged  greatly  to  Tarn 
Wilson  and  others  what  a  round  of  swearin'  he  had 
ffiven  the  magistrates.  Shortly  after  this  Tam  Wilson 
visited  Edinburgh  and  he  was  also  taken  up  for  some 
offense.     Recollecting  what  Howliston  had  told  him  he 


SKETCHES  AND  ANECDOTES. 


27 


began  cursing  and  swearing  in  the  court  room,  and  for 
which  he  was  sent  up  for  thirty  days.  When  Tam  got 
back  to  Dunse  he  informed  Will  how  he  had  followed 
his  example,  by  giving  the  magistrates  a  round  of 
swearin'.  '*  Tuts,"  replied  Will ;  "  ye  did  wrang.  I 
didna'  begin  my  round  o'  swearin'  till  I  was  twa  miles 
and  a  half  oot  o'  the  city." 


NO  EARTHLY  JOY. 

Jock  Muirhead  had  lately  got  married  to  a  brisk  lass 
o'  the  name  o'  Jean  MacDonald.  A  minister  that  hadna' 
married  them,  met  Jock  and  wished  him  muckle  joy. 
^'  There's  nae  yirthly  joy,"  (juo'  Jock;  "  Jean  threatened 
to  rin  awa'  frae  me  this  morniu'."  "  And  what  did  ye 
say  to  her?"  quo'  the  minister.  "  Weel,  I  just  tald  her 
to  rin,  and  I  wad  tak'  guid  care  no'  to  rin  after  her." 


HEADS  TO  DISCOURSES. 

"  Some  ministers,"  said  Fulton  Cunningham,  "  ha'e  a 
great  lot  o'  heads  and  particulars  to  their  discourses, 
but  ma  mither  had  just  ae  head  to  her  discourse,  and 
that  was  a  stick  wi'  a  big  head  and  a  pike  in  the  end 
o't." 


WORST  OF  ALL. 

Auld  Marian  McPhersoii  oaed  into  a  neiorhbor's  house 
one  day,  and  she  said,  "  Ma  head  is  just  swim  swimmin', 
and  ma  lugs  are  just  ring  ringiu'.  Ma  banes  are  as  sair  as 
if  I  had  been  ca'd  through  a  miller's  happer,  antl  oh! 
hech  me,  I  can  scarcely  pu'  ae  foot  after  the  ither,  but 
worst  o'  a'  some  o'  ma  freends  are  comin'  this  blessed 
day,  and  I  wad  be  muckle  obliged  to  ye  for  the  loan  o' 
your  kail-pat  and  a  bottle  or  twa  o'  your  best  whisky." 


li 


c 

0 


28 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


:  1' 


i 


Mi 


■ 

I 


!■ 


i    ! 

Ill' 


* 


t 


1  1,  rp 


i 


A  KISS. 

The  Rev.  Mr.  Shand  was  a  superannuated  Scottish 
minister  wlio  spoke  the  Scottisli  language  in  all  its 
native  purity.  One  day  he  remarked:  "  I'm  fair  sick  o' 
the  boinbastical  ways  o'  men  and  women;  the  generality 
o'  them  hae  nae  mair  brains  than  hens.  VVlian  they  meet 
ye'll  see  them  curtsey,  bow  and  scrai)e,  and  gang 
through  as  mony  raanfcuvers  and  cajiers  as  a  horse  at  a 
fair.  It's  just  sickenin'  to  see  them  gripin'  and  shakin' 
ane  anither  by  the  hand,  but  the  kissin'  wark  is  warst 
o'  a'.  Sir,  understand,  that  I  ha'e  been  a  keen  observer 
o'  baith  men  and  women.  I  ha'e  watched  their  ways  and 
manners,  and  I  ha'e  come  to  tlie  conclusion  that  a  kiss 
consists  o'  twa  simple  heads  and  an  application." 


A  BAD  END. 

Ae  day  Robert  Gowanlock,  a  married  man,  thus 
spoke:  "I  wadna'  be  an  auld  bachelor  for  a'  the  gold 
and  silver  under  the  canopy  o'  heaven.  Their  lives  are 
l)erfect  failures,  and  for  the  maist  feck  they  a'  dee  most 
horrible  deaths.  I  ha'e  just  been  awa  sittin'  up  wi' 
that  auld  confirmed  idiot  o'  a  bachelor,  Willy  Clapper- 
ton,  wha  is  no  lang  for  this  warld.  Bless  my  soul!  if 
Willy  had  married  Tibbie  McDougall  in  his  young  days 
he  might  ha'e  been  a  grandfather  by  this  time." 


LAMMIELOO. 

Twas  on  a  Sunday  afternoon 

When  simmer  was  in  prime, 
That  in  our  wee  bit  houseikie 

We  had  an  unco  time; 
A  bonnie  wee  bit  lassiekie, 

The  sweetest  o'  them  a', 
Wi'  mouie  a  liind  and  welcome  wish 

Upon  us  ga'e  a  ca'. 


SKETCHES    AXD    ANECDOTES. 


29 


Wi'  silent  step  twa  years  ha'e  fled 

Sinoe  that  event  took  place, 
Now  beauty's  bloom  and  sunny  smiles 

Are  pictured  on  her  face; 
O!  she's  a  winsome  lussiekie 

Guid  folksl  I  tell  to  vou, 
There's  no  a  wean  in  a'  the  rounds 

Can  match  our  Lammieloo. 

When  mornin'  light  comes  peepin'  in, 

And  'fore  I  say  my  prayers. 
She'll  open  up  her  eyes  and  cry, 

"Pa,  take  me  doon  the  stairs;" 
And  when  she's  doon,  though  in  her  pouch 

She  hasna'  ae  bawbee. 
She'll  rap  the  table  and  she'll  cry, 

"  Nell,  fetch  a  cup  o'  tea." 

Ae  day  I  coft  her  a  bit  doll 

Which  I  saw  labeled  cheap, 
She  rowed  it  in  her  arras  and  cried, 

"  Now  baby  gang  to  sleep;" 
She  raised  her  finger  to  her  ear, 

As  if  to  catch  the  key, 
And  then  she  sang  "Sleep,  baby,  sleep," 

Midst  mickle  mirth  and  glee. 

We  ha'e  a  weary  time  at  night, 

She  winua  close  her  een; 
She  fain  wad  rise  and  chase  the  hens 

That  cackle  on  the  greet*; 
And  then  I  fauld  her  in  my  arms. 

And  hum  an  auld  Scotch  strain, 
And  when  I  stop,  she'd  sweetly  say, 

"  O,  papa,  sing  again." 

We  ha'e  some  pictures  in  our  house. 

She  kens  them  a'  by  turns, 
O.  this  is  "  Weaker  Scott,"  she'll  say. 

And  that  is  "  Robert  Burns;" 
She'll  tell  ye  how  the  deggies  bark, 

And  how  the  pussies  mew, 
O,  hush!  the  cradle  I  maun  rock, 

O,  sleep,  my  Lammieloo. 


U' 


0 


80 


SKBTCUES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


\4 


It 


ii 


I 


i'i. 


mi 


I;  ! 


STEADFAST  LOVE. 

Thomas  Blackbull  fell  over  head  and  ears  in  love  wi' 
bonnie  Jenny  Wilson,  the  kindest  and  the  brawest  lass 
in  a'  the  parish.  They  were  in  the  habit  o'  walking  o' 
nights  in  the  plantation  by  the  banks  o'  the  Dye — a 
burn  that  winds  its  way  through  the  hills  o'  Laramer- 
moor.  One  evening,  Will  Smeaton,  a  tailor  by  occupa- 
tion, was  in  the  plantation  and  overheard  the  following 
conversation: 

"  O,  Jenny,"  quo  Tam,  "  I  do  lo'e  ye  steadfast,  there's 
nae  power  on  earth  could  knock  your  image  out  o'  my 
heart.  It  is  rooted  there  in  storm  and  sunshine,  in  wind 
and  in  rain." 

"Hout,"  cried  Jenny,  "I'm  no  sae  sure  o'  that;  the 
love  o'  man  is  as  changeable  as  the  wind — it  is  even  like 
the  butterfly  that  flits  frae  ae  flower  to  the  ither.  I 
wadna'  believe  some  men  as  far  as  I  could  fling  them." 

"  What!"  cried  Tam,  "  for  goodness  sake,  Jenny, 
dinna  misdoot  me.  I'll  lo'e  ye,  Jenny,  my  ain  dear,  as 
lang  as  there's  fur  on  the  back  o'  a  rabbit  or  hair  on  the 
back  o'  a  horse. 


)» 


WORKING  THE  ORACLE. 

About  the  time  of  the  passage  of  the  reform  bill, 
David  Drysdale  and  Adam  Tamson,  two  weavers,  drank 
to  the  health  of  Lord  John  Russell  and  Earl  Grey,  so 
frequently,  that  both  their  money  and  credit  ran  out. 
One  night  they  were  in  a  very  bad  state,  and  quoth 
David  to  Adam  :  "  We  must  work  the  oracle  some  way 
or  another,  otherwise  we  will  never  see  the  light  of 
another  day.  Now,  we  will  baith  gang  up  to  John 
Aikenhead's  shop  door,  and  I  will  fa'  doon  in  a  faint, 
and  ye  will  rin  in  and  tell  John."     The  project  worked 


^^^^^ 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


81 


well,  for  out  came  Mr.  Aikenheacl  and  gave  the  pros- 
trate man  a  dram.  When  he  had  drank  about  the  half 
of  it  Adam  cried  to  David:  "For  the  love  of  good- 
ness, David,  leave  me  some!"  "Tuts!"  cried  David, 
"  Lie  doon  and  faint  for  yoursel' !" 


SAY  NO  MORE. 

I  was  at  the  school  with  Symon  Mack  and  Helen 
Gowenlock,  and  we  also  worshiped  in  the  auld  Kirk  of 
Scotland,  which  I  have  respected  and  ever  will  respect. 
In  due  course  Symon  and  Helen  got  married,  and  the 
love  they  had  for  one  another  was  as  pure  as  undefiled 
gold — which  is  the  foundation  of  peace.  Now,  Symon 
was  a  great  admirer  of  the  works  of  nature,  and  about  a 
week  after  they  were  married  he  rose  very  early  and 
looked  out  of  the  .window.  The  sun  was  rising.  Helen 
was  also  rising.  Symon's  soul  was  tilled  with  delight 
when  he  beheld  the  golden  sunbeams  dancing  on  the 
top  of  the  hills.  In  the  fullness  of  his  heart  he 
exclaimed,  "  How  grand  and  with  what  majesty  ye  are 
rising,  O,  thou  glory  of  the  heavens  and  of  the  earth." 
On  hearing  this,  Helen  looked  out  of  her  box  bed  and 
she  said,  "Symon,  Symon,  my  dear,  say  no  more  ;  ye 
will  make  me. far  ower  proud  o'  mysel'." 


A  PROUD  MAN. 

Some  years  ago,  while  in  conversation  with  the  cele- 
brated Thomas  Carlvle's  brother,  who  resided  in  the 
vicinity  of  Brantford,  Onl.,  William  Smith,  an  auld 
Paisley  weaver,  cam'  alang  the  street,  and  he  said  to 
him:  "Dear  sakes  me!  and  are  ye  Tam  Carlvle's 
brither?  O,  man,  but  I  wad  be  a  proud  man  if  Tam  was 
ma  brither." 


c 


^ 

!;|,:i 


"r 


l! 


u 


( [ 


,<  I 


32 


SKErCHES    AN'D    ANECDOTES. 


ANDREW  AND  MAGGIE. 

There  lived  a  lad  in  Laininenni>or 

And  Andrew  wjis  his  name, 
And  he  has  fa 'en  deep  in  love 

Wi'  bonnie  Maggie  Graham. 

Now  Andrew  was  as  braw  a  lad 

As  ever  held  a  plow; 
True  was  his  heart,  and  manly  woriii 

Was  stamped  upon  hi.s  brow. 

He  lov'd  but  one  and  one  alone. 

fie  lov'd  her  every  hour; 
He  was  not  like  the  bu.sy  bee 

That  flit.s  from  tlower  to  flower. 

But  wha  can  paint  sweet  Maggie  Graham? 

She  was  beyond  compare; 
Within  her  heart  the  richest  gifts 

Frae  Heaven  were  centered  there. 

Sweet  is  the  flower  in  craggy  gk-n 

That  blooms  without  a  name, 
IJut  sweeter  far  the  sunny  smile 

O'  bonnie  Jlaggie  Graham! 

She'd  lilt  and  .sing  the  lee-lang  day 
Auld  Scotland's  .sangs  sae  dear; 

Her  artless  notes,  how  sweet  they  fell 
Upon  the  list'ning  ear. 

How  aft  they  met  doon  in  the  glen 
Beneath  the  moon'.s  pale  beam, 

lh>\\  aft  he  tauld  his  tale  o'  line 
Beside  the  winding  .stream. 

O'  a'  the  gifts  that  Heaven  has  sent 

Since  man  frae  bliss  did  fa", 
The  precious  gift  o'  woman's  love 

Is  far  abune  them  a'. 

'Tv>  ;is  in  the  blythsonie  simmer  time. 

All  in  the  month  o'  May, 
When  Andrew  and  his  ain  true  love 

Gaed  up  the  Millwood  brae. 


an 
th 
to 

ca 

<( 

Sc 
bo 
ha 

Wf 

liv 

CO 

lie 
asi 


:i!' 


SKKTCIIES    AND    ANKCDOTES. 


33 


The  hawthorn  IrmI^^c  was  rich  in  bloom, 
Tiie  llowers  w(  re  fresh  iiiid  fair, 

Th(!  birds  r(!Joi(;'(i — eVn  heaven  sniil'd 
Upon  this  happy  pair  I 

They  reache<l  the  manse,  and  soon  they  met 
"The  man  unlinown  to  fame;" 

He  joined  their  liands,  and  in  his  heart, 
He  lilest  sweet  Maggie  Graham. 

He  said,  "  O,  Andrew,  ne'er  forget, 

In  journeying  o'er  life's  road, 
If  ye  are  true  unto  yersel', 

Ye'll  aye  be  true  to  God ! 

And  O,  may  Heaven  bliss  ye  bahh, 

And  keep  ye  in  His  care; 
O,  ne'er  forget  the  golden  words — 

'  To  bear  and  to  forbear  '  " 

Now  Andrew  was  a  gallant  lad. 

He  said,  "  Whate'er  betide, 
Until  my  latest  breath  I  draw, 

I'll  lo'e  my  bonnie  bride  I" 


ALMOST. 
Thomas  Snadden  was  a  big-  hurley  kind  of  a  man, 
and  a  great  devourer  of  books.  I  once  lieard  liiiu  say 
that  books  were  grand  companions,  and  far  preferable 
to  the  society  of  either  men  or  women,  dogs,  horses  or 
cats.  One  day  he  met  John  Play  fair  and  said  to  him: 
"  John,  I  ha'e  been  glowerin'  ower  the  warks  o'  the 
Scottish  poets,  frae  Allan  Ramsay  doonwards,  and  I  am 
bound  to  say  that  Scotland  is  a  glorious  guidwife.  She 
has  produced  swarms  o'  the  grandest  poets  that  the 
warld  ever  saw  or  heard  tell  o',  and,  as  sure  as  I  am  a 
livin'  sowl,  I  wad  e'en  like  to  hear  ony  body  say  to  the 
contrary."  "  Mr.  Snadden,"  quo  John,  "  wi  a'  due 
deference  to  your  size  and  your  intellectual  capacity,  I 
assume  the  responsibility  o'  remarkin'  that  Scotland  has 


0 


84 


BKBTCIIES   AND    ANECDOTES. 


i 


III 


never  produced  a  Shakespeare."  At  this  remark 
Thomas  ga'e  his  croon  a  claw,  and  then  lie  said:  "  Let 
that  flea  stick  to  the  wa'.  Shakespeare,  by  a'  accounts, 
was  in  Scotland,  and  we  may  gather  frae  that  that  it 
was  in  Scotland  where  he  gathered  his  wit.  Still,  I 
canna'  gainsay  the  fact  that  Shakespeare  had  brains  o* 
the  very  best  quality,  and  that  he  was  an  Englishman. 
John,  1  perfectly  agree  wV  ane  o'  his  critics  that  *  Shake- 
speare was  almost  clever  enough  to  be  a  Scotchman.'" 


BURNING  UP. 

James  Hogg,  the  Ettrick  shepherd,  in  one  of  his  love 
songs,  thus  sings: 

"  Love,  love,  love,  love,  love  is  like  a  dizziness, 

It  winna  let  a  poor  body  gang  about  their  business." 

And  I  am  inclined  to  think,  and  more  than  me  can 
testify  to  the  same,  that  love  is  also  like  a  devouring 
flame,  and  that  all  the  waters  in  rivers,  lakes  and  seas 
cannot  drown  it  out.  In  corroboration:  One  evening 
Andrew  Cranston  met  his  sweetheart,  Nannie  Walker, 
at  the  trysting-tree,  and  quoth  he:  "Nannie,  my  heart 
is  on  Are,  I  am  burning  up  !  and  I  want  to  get  married 
next  Thursday."  "Losh,"  quoth  she,  "Andrew,  my 
dear,  that  is  unco  short  notice,  for  ye  ken  I  must  get  my 
providing  ready  and  my  wedding  gown  made."  "  Tuts," 
quoth  Andrew,  "  never  mind  about  your  providing,  and 
as  for  your  gown,  the  gown  ye  ha'e  will  do  weel  enough. 
Now,  Nannie,  just  gie  consent,  for  ye  ken  delays  are 
dangerous."  "  Now,  Andrew,"  quoth  Nannie,  "  I'm  no 
designed  to  mak'  a  fool  o'  mysel.'  Ye  may  just  burn 
up.  My  faith,  I'm  no  gaun,  as  the  saying  is,  to 
marry  in  haste  and  repent  at  leisure." 


: '  i,. 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


35 


A  LAMMERMOOR  LEGEND. 

In  LammerniDor,  in  Scothind's  isle, 
A  shepherd  lived  in  frugal  style  ; 
Ae  night  he  felt  a  wee  thought  worri'd, 
And  for  the  doctor  olT  he  hurri'd. 
The  doctor  cam',  the  herd  return'd, 
What  joy  within  his  bosom  burn'd; 
He  was  the  father  of  a  son, 
Whose  Icet  o'  life  had  just  begun; 
When  tears  of  heartfelt  joy  he  shed, 
"  Doctor,"  he  cried,  "  I'm  more  than  glad, 
A  son,  a  son,  kind  heaven  has  sent 
And  now,  at  last  I  am  content, 
I  ne'er  felt  better  in  a'  my  life. 
May  heaven  protect  my  son  and  wife! 
Doctor,  I'm  unco  glad  ye  cam'. 
My  faith,  we  now  will  ha'e  a  dram, 
And  what  is  mair,  sir,  if  ye  please. 
We'll  ha'e  a  chack  o'  bread  and  cheese." 
Wi'  joy  the  herd,  I  here  declare, 
Flung  up  his  bonnet  in  the  air. 

The  doctor  had  nae  time  to  stay. 
He  took  a  dram,  and  rode  away 
Across  the  moor' at  a  guid  peg 
To  set  an  auld  wife's  broken  leg, 
Wha  doon  had  couped  wi'  great  amaze, 
When  she  was  hanging  out  her  claes. 

To  kiss  and  hug  the  little  dear 
The  gossips  came  frae  far  and  near. 
Who  all  agreed,  'midst  great  palaver, 
He  was  the  image  o'  his  father. 
In  twa  or  three  days  the  wife  got  well, 
And  could  be  lippen'd  wi'  hersel'; 
And  then  the  herd  raxed  doou  his  plaid, 
And  to  the  hill  awa  he  gaed 
To  see  the  sheep  how  they  were  fending. 
And  if  their  crops  o'  wool  were  mending. 
The  sun  by  this  began  to  fa' 
As  he  cam'  o'er  the  Ijormanshaw  ; 
He  reached  his  hame  at  edge  o'  night 
And  then,  wae's  me,  he  got  a  fright. 


0 


I      ; 


36 


SKETCHES    AN'D    AXEC'DOTKS. 


I'-'l 


:W 


"ll 


His  son  was  sleeping  all  alone, 
But,  oh,  alas!  liis  wife  was  gone! 
lie  to  the  door  with  fren/y  gaed, 
And  there  he  saw  a  cavalcade 
Of  fairies  on  their  fairy  steeds. 
All  playing  on  flieir  sylvan  reeds. 
And  singing  songs  of  exultation 
Beyond  the  bounds  of  moderation, 
Which  woke  the  birds,  and  in  despair 
They  flew  in  terror  through  the  air, 
E'en  foxes  lied  with  tails  erected 
And  left  their  young  ones  unprotected! 

The  fairies,  young,  looked  fair  to  sec, 
But  the  auld  blinkers,  liech  how  me. 
Their  faces  lookit  inair  by  token. 
To  an  auld  withered  dricd-uj)  docken; 
There  was  ae  antiquated  male 
Wha  nuist  ha'e  weathered  monie  a  gale 
His  nose  was  crook'd  like  the  half  moon. 
His  chin  was  like  a  horner's  spoon. 
He  had  a  mouth  but  far  as  learn'd 
The  tient  a  tooth  could  be  discern 'd, 
His  legs  looked  like  twa  lame  inventions, 
But  he  had  wings  o'  great  dimensions, 
From  tap  to  lae  lie  looked  a  yald  ane, 
My  faith!  he  must  ha'e  been  the  auld  ane! 

Now,  'mang  tin;  throng  he  heard  his  wife 
Cry  "  Mercy  me!  oh,  spare  my  life! ' 
He  cast  his  coat  and  bonniit  blue, 
And  after  them  awa'  he  (lew, 
Wi'  rage  at  every  step  and  stend. 
His  hair  in  tufts  stood  up  on  end, 
His  mouth  and  eyes  wore  opened  wide 
While  Vengeance  scamper'd  at  his  side  ! 

He  saw  them  reach  the  water  Dye; 
He  yelled:     ''Ye  hags  of  midnigiit,  tly. 
In  name  of  heaven,  and  earth,  and  sea. 
And  leave  my  own  guidwife  to  me." 
At  heaven's  name  they  looked  aghast. 
And  on  the  groimd  tiie  guidwife  cast. 
With  terror  o'er  the  stream  they  glide 
And  safely  gain  the  other  side. 
And  then  and  there  the  fairy  throng 
Chanted  this  fragment  of  a  song: 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


37 


'  i     I 


By  the  pale  nu)r»n'8  glint  and  gleum, 
By  tlic*  spirit  of  tiie  stream, 
By  the  rowan  on  the  tree, 
And  tlie  dcwdrup  on  tiic  lea, 
Wlicn  the  fox  has  left  his  hdr, 
Wiien  the  hat  is  in  the  air, 
Wlien  the  wisp  ids  lamp  has  lit. 
We  will  woo  and  win  her  yet. 

He  got  her  hame,  but  sad  to  tell, 
She  ne'er  again  was  like  hersel', 
She'd  sit  and  sigh  the  live  long  day, 
Her  thoughts  were  wandering  far  away, 
For  she  had  seen,  upon  her  flight, 
A  glimmer  of  the  second  sight; 
Ah,  me!  'tis  told  she  sjiw  I  ween. 
The  lands  and  lights  of  the  unseen, 
She  saw  what  I  dare  dread  to  rhyme — 
The  never-ending  bridge  of  tinie! 
But  all  these  ills  that  on  her  came. 
She  only  had  herself  to  blame; 
Her  days  in  peace  she  might  have  ended 
Had  she  to  guid  advice  attended. 
At  her  bed  head,  upon  three  deeks. 
She  failed  to  hang  her  guidman's  breeks; 
She  could  have  crushed  the  fairy  plot 
By  this  unfailing  antidote! 

Ae  night  the  sky  was  overcast, 
And  her  gindman  was  sleeping  fast. 
Dark  gruesome  clouds  "gainst  clouds  went  dashing, 
And  rain  in  torrents  down  came  splashing. 
The  thunder  rolletl,  the  earth  lay  dumb 
As  if  the  day  of  wrath  had  come! 
The  fairies  came— a  countless  band. 
And  bore  her  oti  to  fairyland; 
The  shepherd's  head  grew  gray  with  care. 
For  she  was  seen  for  neverinair; 
He'd  wander  by  the  Dimple-hill, 
And  down  beside  the  winding  rill, 
And  raise  his  hand  and  call  her  name, 
But  to  his  call  no  answer  came; 
She's  gone!  where,  where?     Wisdom  replies, 
Unto  the  Lauds  of  the  Surmise. 


i| 


I 

C 

0 


38 


SKETCHES    AXD    ANECDOTES. 


V.i  > 


ilr 


i:     1. 


'!!' 


TOO  DEAR. 

The  word  "coft"  is  a  classical  Scotch  word.  In  the 
vulgar  English  it  means  to  buy  or  to  purchase.  It  is 
tellingly  introduced  in  the  old  song  : 

"  I  coft  a  stane  o'  haslock  woo." 
which  means  that  a  stone  of  wool  had  been  bought  that 
had  been  obtained  from  the  neck  of  a  sheep.     By  this 
example  the  intelligent  reader  will,  no  doubt,  perceive 
the  beauty  and  condensation  of  the  one  language  and 
the  redundant  verbosity  of  the  other.     There  is  an  old 
saying  "that  nothing  should  be  done  without  a  purpose" 
and  my  purpose  is  again  to  resuscitate  this  word.    John 
Ballantyne  was  a  herder  among  the  hills.     He  was  very 
penurious,  and  kept  a  double  knot  on  the  strings  of  his 
purse.     One  day  he  was  going  to  Dunbar,  and  his  wife 
said  to  him,  "John,  when  ye  are  in  Dunbar  I  wad  like 
if  ye  wad  buy  me  a  new  bible  wi'  big  print,  as  I  canna 
see  sae  guid  as  I  did  when  you  and  I  first  got  ac(|uainted 
wi'  ane  another."    When  he  returned  from  Dunbar,  quo' 
the  wife,  "John,  did  ye  bring  the  bible?"     "  Na,  ua," 
quo'  John,   "they  were  maist  extraordinary  dear — the 
very  deevil  wadna  have  coft  ane  o'  them. 


LET  HIM  LOOSE. 

In  the  parish  o'  Stow,  Midlothian,  lived  Robbie 
Roughead,  who  was  a  very  timid  man.  On  the  morn- 
ing of  his  marriage  day  a  most  unaccountable  fear  came 
over  him  and  he  ran  and  hid  himself  in  a  peat-bog.  The 
minister  arrived  and  he  ordered  some  of  the  people  to 
bring  him  in,  and  they  tied  a  halter  about  him  and  they 
pulled  him  in  by  main  force.  At  the  conclusion  of  the 
ceremony  the  minister  said:  "It  is  all  over  now — ye 
may  take  oft"  the  halter  and  let  him  loose." 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


39 


ii 


THE  ROAD  TO  MATRIMONY. 

Grace  Glonwood  was  a  blooming  maid 
Whom  old  and  \ouiig  admir"d, 

And  many  a  lad,  both  rich  and  poor. 
Her  heart  and  hand  desir'd. 

Now  she  resided  with  her  aunt, 

And  I  with  truth  confess, 
Her  aunt  was  just  as  cross  an  aunt 

As  ever  trod  the  grass. 

She'd  lash  her  niece  with  her  long  tongue, 

My  faith  she'd  let  her  ken 
That  she  would  be  the  death  o'  her 

If  she  spoke  to  the  men. 

One  night  she  took  a  kind  o'  dwam. 

And  off  she  went  to  bed, 
And  lo,  at  this  her  lovel}'  niece 

Was  most  extremely  glad. 

She  heard  a  rap,  then  to  the  door 

On  tip-toe  ofT  she  ran, 
And  in  a  crack  she  was  emlirac'd 

By  John,  the  miller's  man. 

They  kissed,  and  kissed,  and  better  kiss'd. 
And  then  quoth  he  "  next  e'en 

I'll  yoke  the  mare,  and  Grace  my  dear. 
We'll  drive  to  Gretna  Green." 

To  this  Grace  Glenwood  gave  consent. 
And  after  some  more  speaking, 

John  left,  and  Grace  went  ben  the  house 
And  f(mnd  her  aunty  sle«!piug. 

Next  night  John  yoked  his  guid  gray  mare. 

And.  quick  as  I  can  tell, 
A  female  form  leaped  in  the  cart, 

And  off  they  went  pell-mell. 

Now  when  they  passed  the  three-mile  stone, 

The  moon  began  lo  shine-. 
And  then  he  cried,  "  Oh,  Grace,  my  dear, 

Your  aunt  will  soon  iie  mine. 


0 


40 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


11: 


O,  Grace,  I  swear  by  moon  and  stars, 

I  never  felt  so  canty." 
He  looked,  instead  of  having  Grace, 

Guid  faith,  he  had  her  aunty  I 

Then  he  roared  to  his  mare  "  Wo,  wo, 
Stand  still,  stand  still,  ye  brute." 

Thon  down  he  sprang,  and  dear  sakes  me, 
He  coupit  aunty  cot! 


FARE  YE  WELL. 

'Tvvas   on    a   summer's  evening   when    Mr.    George 

Craig's  work  was  done,  that  he,  like  Southey's  Caspar, 

was  sitting  in  the  sun.     As  he  sat  he  Avas  shooting  folly 

as  it  flies.     He   wondered   how   people   could    scamper 

hither  and  thither  in  this  hot  and  sultry  weather  instead 

of   sitting   calmly  on  the    doorstep    and  imitating  the 

example  of  wise   men.     As   he   thus   sat,  an  old   man 

approached, 

"  Whose  withered  cheek  and  tresses  gray, 
iSeemed  to  have  known  a  better  day." 

He  grasped  Mr.  Craig  by  the  hand  and  said:  "C^eorge 
Craig,  I  have  got  wind  of  ye.  I  have  got  hold  of  ye  at 
the  lang  and  the  last!"  Mr.  Craig  looked  at  him  and  he 
said:  "  Wha  are  ye?  Upon  my  honor,  I  dinna  ken  ye 
frae  Adam."  "  What!"  cried  the  stranger,  "  although  I 
havena'  seen  jq  for  saxty  years,  I  kent  ye  at  the  first 
glance.  My  name  is  Bauldy  Drummond,  and  when  we 
were  bairns  many  is  the  time  that  we  have  played 
together  upon  the  cold  commons  o'  Coldingham.'* 
"  Dear  me,"  cried  Mr.  Craig,  "  I  mind  o'  you  and  I 
mind  o'  your  father  afore  ye."  "  When  ye  speak  about 
my  father,"  replied  Mr.  Drummond,  "  ye  touch  a  tender 
spot.  I  Avent  awa  frae  home,  and  every  year  I  returned 
to  see  my  father.     The  first  year  he  convoyed  me  away. 


m^ 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


41 


and  on  the  top  o'  Horsley  hill  he  said  '  Fare  ye  well.* 
The  next  year  he  said  '  Fare  ye  well '  at  the  foot  o'  the 
hill.  The  next  vear  he  came  to  the  door,  and  he  looked 
at  me  so  waesorae  like,  when  he  said  the  waesome 
words,  '  Fare  ye  well.'  " 


MY  LOVH 

I  weary  a'  the  day,  and  I  weary  a'  the  night, 

I  weary  for  the  darkness,  and  I  weary  for  the  light, 

There's  naething  round  about  me  but  clouds  o'  dool  and  care. 

Oh,  wae  is  me  I  my  love  is  gane — she's  gane  for  everuiair. 

Oh!  nevermair  we'll  wander  on  the  bonnie  banks  o'  Dye, 
Nae  mair  I'll  see  the  love-light  tliat  glisten'd  in  her  eye: 
The  links  o'  love  are  broken  and  my  heart  is  sad  and  sair. 
Oil,  wae  is  me  I  my  love  is  gane — she's  gane  for  evermair. 

Oil,  weel  I  mind  the  gowden  days  away  in  the  lang  syne, 
When  underneath  the  greenwood  tree  she  laid  her  hand  in  mine; 
But  now  the  days  of  joy  are  tied  and  sunk  in  dark  despair, 
Oh,  wae  is  mel  my  love  is  gane — she's  gane  for  evermair. 

The  shades  o'  night  were  deep'ning  and  the  cloud  was  in  the  sky. 
My  love  lay  down  upon  her  couch  to  sleep — to  sleep — to  die; 
There's  sadness  in  the  sunlight,  there's  sadness  everywhere, 
Oh,  wae  is  mel  my  love  is  gane — she's  gane  for  evermair. 


FAIR  WEATHER. 

An  old  sea  captain  (whose  name  has  unfortunately 

escaped  my  memory)  died  in   the  parish  of  Westruther. 

After  his  death  his  effects  were  sold  off  by  public  roup. 

James   Clapperton,    an  anti<]uated    weaver,    who    wore 

knee-breeks    and    euitikins,    to    the  end   of  his    days, 

attended  the  sale.    After  a  warm  contest  between  Jenny 

Allan  and  James,  an  old  barometer  was  knocked  down 

to  him  for  28.   6^d.     Now  James  took  the   barometer 

home,  hung  it  up  and  gazed  at  the  relic  with  a  feeling 

of  pride,  as  he  was  well  acquainted  with  the  auld  sea 

4 


c 

0 


{"i 


I 

i 
t 

IP) 


i 


m 


>i  i 


I '  i 


42 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


captain.  Something  or  another,  however,  was  wrong 
with  the  instrument,  for  it  failed  to  determine  the  state 
of  the  weather.  Though  the  winds  howled,  and  the 
tempests  raved,  yet  it  still  pointed  to  fair  weather.  One 
dav  it  came  on  a  furious  rain  and  James  consulted  his 
barometer.  He  lost  all  patience.  He  raised  the  win- 
dow, and  seizing  the  barometer  by  the  butt  end,  shoved 
its  head  out  and  said,  "  Blast  ye;  ye  can  see  for  yersel'!" 


THE  SWAN  O'  AVON. 

Duncan  Peterkin  had  a  by-ordinar'  appetite  for  dra- 
matic literature.  He  was  conversant  with  the  works  of 
Beaumont  and  Fletcher,  Ben  Jonson,  Massinger,  Ford, 
and  others.  His  great  and  grand  idol,  however,  was 
William  Shakespeare,  whom  he  invariably  called  the 
"  The  Swan  o'  Avon,"  One  dav,  in  course  of  con  versa- 
tion,  when  Jock  Trotter,  the  butcher  was  present,  Dun- 
can made  the  remark  that  he  "  wad  gie  baith  his  left 
arm  and  his  right  leg  if  he  could  get  baud  o'  the  '  Swan 
o'  Avon's'  first  folio."  At  this  remark  Jock  looked  as  if 
he  saw  all  the  wonders  of  the  world  at  one  glance,  and 
then  he  said:  "  Losh  guide  us  a',  Duncan,  man,  what 
kind  o'  a  beast  is't?" 


MAY  HEAVEN  FORGIVE  HIM. 

Little  Will  Hastie  was  a  kick  above  the  commonality 
of  ne'er-do-weels.  He  was  the  ring-leader  in  all  kinds 
of  mischief.  Such  an  imp  of  Satan,  I  am  sure,  could 
not  be  discovered  from  Berwick  bounds  to  the  back  of 
beyond.  One  day  Jean  Steedman,  the  grocer,  sought 
out  Will's  father  and  complained  that  Will  had  tied  up 
her  door,  choked  up  her  lum-head,  and  with  a  kail-runt 
had  nearly  "  scorafished  "  the  very  life  oot  of  her.     His 


TT 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


43 


father  replied :  "  I  ha'e  used  a  dizen  o'  rods  o'  correc- 
tion  on  Will's  back;  I  ha'e  hamshackled  him;  I  ha'e 
locked  him  up;  and  I  ha'e  taken  twa  or  three  staps  oot 
o'  his  bicker;  but  a'  to  nae  purpose."  Then  laying  his 
hand  on  Mrs.  Steedman's  shoulder,  he  said :  "  But  there 
is  ae  consolation,  and  it  is  this,  that  although  the  deevil 
is  sometimes  slow,  yet,  nevertheless,  at  the  lang  run,  and 
in  due  course,  he  aye  gets  his  ain."  These  cold-hearted 
words  were  too  much  for  Mrs.  Steedman.  A  tear  welled 
from  her  eye  and  fell  upon  the  back  of  her  wrinkled 
hand,  and  she  said:  "  May  heaven  forgie  him,  as  I  for- 
gie  him,  for,  wi'  a'  his  faults,  the  puir  wee  laddie  lies 
unco  near  ma  heart." 


\r. 


m  ■  1: 


i«  f 


i  ! 


A  JOVIAL  SOLDIER. 

Much  wind  has  been  wasted  in  the  attempt  to  prop 
up  the  bombastical  doctrine  of  evolution.  In  contradic- 
tion I  do  not  consider  myself  as  good  a  man  as  my 
father.  In  other  words,  instead  of  improving  I  have 
degenerated.  In  a  moment  of  vanity,  if  I  should  take 
it  into  mv  head  to  believe  that  I  have  evolved  and 
improved,  I  give  my  friend  David  Beveridge  full  liberty 
to  come  and  lash  me  within  an  inch  of  my  life.  In  fur- 
ther proof  of  my  argument,  Ruben  Handyside  was  no 
improvement  upon  his  father.  Instead  of  being  so  he 
was  a  perfect  failure.  One  day  Ruben  went  to  St.  Bos- 
well's  fair,  and  he  took  it  into  his  head  that  he  would 
evolve  into  a  soldier  ;  consequently  he  enlisted,  and  after 
taking  a  glass  or  two,  he  returned  home  in  great  glee. 
He  danced  into  the  house,  where  he  found  his  father 
sitting  by  the  fire.  He  roared  out  :  "  Father,  I'm  now 
a  jovial  soldier."  His  father  looked  at  him  with  a  look 
of  sadness,  and  then  he  said  :  "  Ruben,  half  a  dizzen 
bullets  into  ye  will  take  the  jovialty  out  o'  ye." 


0 


!       '  1 


44 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


■)f'^ 


■.,i 


O,  LUCY,  WILL  YE  GANG  WF  ME? 

O,  Lucy,  will  ye  gang  wi'  me 
To  the  bonnie  braes  o'  the  Dimples? 

Where  the  heather  blooms  sae  bonnielye, 
Where  the  Dye  sae  sweetly  wimples. 

The  road  winds  through  the  Lammermoor, 

The  way  will  no  be  dreary, 
O,  I  could  gang  the  world  o'er 

Alang  wi'  you,  my  dearie! 

0,  come  wi'  me,  my  bonnie  lass, 

I'll  row  my  plaid  aboot  ye, 
The  light  o'  heaven  is  in  yere  face. 

I  cunna  live  withoot  ye. 

Wlien  ye  are  hame  at  my  fireside. 

How  dearly  I  will  lo'e  thee! 
Yell  h'  my  ain,  my  bonnie  bride, 

And  !:  m:  life  I'll  woo  thee! 

He's  ta'eu  his  Lucy. by  the  hand, 

And  they  are  aff  thegither; 
A  brawer  pair  in  a'  the  land 

Ne'er  crossed  the  blooming  heather. 

As  o'er  the  moor  they  linked  alang, 
The  hills  forgot  their  sadness, 

The  dowie  glens  and  valleys  rang 
Wi'  sangs  o'  joy  and  gladness. 


HE  UNCOVERED  HIS  HEAD. 

[Inscribed  to  Mrs.  Margaret  Brack.] 

Not  far  distant  from  where  Sir  Walter  Scott  lays 
the  scene  of  the  "Bride  of  Laramermoor "  is  the  kirk 
town  of  Abbey  St.  Bathans.  It  is  surrounded  on  all 
sides  by  heath-clad  hills  and  moorland  wastes,  but  in  its 
immediate  vicinity,  in  striking  contrast,  are  seen  the 
fairy  nook,  the  woodland  glade,  and  the  fertile  vale. 
On  a  beautiful  table  land  are  the  ruins  of  an  Abbey  or 
Monastery,  which  was  dedicated  to  St.  Bernard,  and 
founded  bv  the  Coimtess  of  March  in  1170: 


^p* 


T^ 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


45 


There  by  the  old  romantic  toon 

The  Whitaflder  rins  rowin'  doon, 

And  lingers  in  her  sea-ward  rac<> 

As  laith  to  leave  so  sweet  a  phico; 

Green  grows  the  grass,  the  woods  how  green. 

Nature  ne'er  made  a  fairer  scene! 

By  the  side  of  the  Monienut  burn,  a  tributary  of  the 
Whitadder,  on  a  beautiful  lawn  between  two  shelving 
l^anks,  scooped  out  by  the  hand  of  nature,  stands  the 
Angler's  Inn.  It  is  a  single  story  thatched  cottage,  and 
looks  so  cozy  and  comfortable  that  one,  tired  of  city 
life,  would  there  be  fain  to  spend  the  evening  of  his 
days  in  tranquility  and  peace.  This  inn,  within  the 
memory  of  the  present  writer,  was  greatly  frequented 
by  anglers  and  tourists  in  search  of  sport  and  the  pictur- 
esque. It  was  kept  by  Martha  Pringle,  an  old  maiden 
lady,  who  was  famed  far  and  near  for  her  neatness  and 
hospitality.  We  can  yet  see  her,  in  our  mind's  eye, 
standing  at  her  door  with  a  face  brimful  of  kindness, 
dressed  in  a  gown  of  linsey-woolsey,  a  toy  or  mutch  on 
her  head  as  white  as  the  driven  snow,  and  suspended 
from  her  apron-string,  hanging  dangling  down,  the  keys 
of  her  bedrooms,  kists  and  cupboards.  With  her 
resided  two  helpers,  the  one  a  bright  little  girl  by  the 
name  of  Jenny,  who  acted  as  scodgy,  or  maid  of  all 
work;  the  other,  her  oldest  brother,  Sandy,  who  was 
almost  as  blind  as  a  mole,  yet,  notwithstanding,  he  had 
an  excellent  ear  for  music,  and  was  in  the  habit  of  lead- 
ing the  psalm  in  the  parish  church.  To  give  the  reader 
an  inkling  of  his  character,  an  anecdote  may  here  be 
introduced.  He  had  a  sister  who  lived  at  Godscroft,  in 
the  capacity  of  house  maid,  who  was  soon  to  be  a  bride, 
and  on  a  Sabbath  morning,  when  the  Rev.  Mr.  Wallace 
was  about  to  begin  the  exercises  in  the  church,  Sandy 


0 


46 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


V)i: 


rose  in  the  desk  and  said:  "  There  is  a  purpose  o'  mar- 
riage atween  our  Lizz  and  Tamraie  Tarason,  and  if  any 
man,  woman  or  bairn  ha'e  ony  objections,  let  them 
speak  clean  oot,  and  if  no,  may  they  haud  their  lang 
tongues  forever.     Amen." 

On  a  beautiful  autumn  forenoon,  when  the  black- 
binls  were  pouring  forth  their  sweetest  notes,  the  linnet 
singing  on  the  whin-bushes,  the  shillfa  on  the  tree,  and 
the  lark  carolling  up  to  the  very  gates  of  heaven^ 
Martha  Pringle  stood  at  her  door  humming  the  old 
song,  which,  according  to  tradition,  was  made  on  John 
Anderson,  the  town  piper  of  Kelso: 

John  Anderson,  my  jo,  John, 

Cum  in  as  ye  gae  by. 
And  ye  shall  get  a  sheep  head 

Weel  baken  in  a  pie; 
Weel  baken  in  a  pie,  John, 

And  a  haggis  in  a  pat, 
.John  Anderson,  my  jo,  John, 

Cum  in  and  ye'U  get  that! 

John  Anderson,  my  jo,  John, 

Ye're  king  amang  the  men, 
Ye  cast  the  glamour  ower  us  a' 

When  ye  cum  dancin'  ben, 
And  when  ye  screw  yer  pipes,  John, 

We're  at  it  heel  and  toe; 
Ye'd  mak'  the  dish  loup  ower  the  spoon, 

John  Anderson,  my  jo. 

She  looked  up  and  she  saw  somebody  coming  up 
the  banks  of  the  burn.  He  was,  I  trow,  one  of  nature's 
noblemen — stalwart  in  frame  and  erect  in  stature.  His 
long  silken  hair  hung  over  the  collar  of  his  shooting 
jacket,  a  kindly  smile  overspread  his  face,  and  his  bright, 
blue  eye  may  be  compared  to  the  eye  of  Mars,  "to 
threaten  or  command."    Martha  trotted  down  the  path- 


SKETCHES  AND  ANECDOTES. 


47 


way  as  fast  her  feet  could  carry  her,  and  she  cried  as 
she  drew  near  her  visitor,  "  bless  ray  heart,  my  bonnie 
man,  and  do  I  live  to  see  ye  ance  mair  ?  Ilech  me,  Mr. 
Wullson,  I'm  fair  oot  o'  breath,  I  ha'ena  had  siccan  a 
race  for  mony  a  day.  Oh,  dear  me,  I'm  sae  uplifted 
that  ray  heart  is  dunt  duntin'  against  ray  ribs  like  a 
pair  o'  fanners,  Gi'e  me  yer  hand,  Mr.  Wullson,"  and 
she  looked  up  in  his  face,  and  frora  the  bottom  of  her 
heart  she  said:  "  O,  man!  ye're  as  welcome  as  the 
flowers  of  Mav!"  and  hand  in  hand  the  two  walked 
together  into  the  Angler's  Inn!  "  Noo,  Mr.  Wullson," 
continued  Martha,  when  they  got  into  the  parlor,  "  sit 
ye  doon  on  that  chair  till  I  get  a  guid  look  at  ye;  and  ha'e 
ye  walked  a'  the  lang  road  from  Cockburnspath,  but 
hoo's  the  guidwife  and  a'  the  bairns  V  Bless  me,  after  yer 
long  tramp  ye'll  be  famishin'  o'  hunger."  Although 
Jenny  was  invisible,  Martha  turned  round  and  cried  out 
at  the  top  of  her  voice,  "Jenny!  Jenny!  ye  ne'er  tlo- 
weel  that  ye  are,  is  the  kail  ready  ?  Oh,  ye  lazy,  sack- 
less,  guid-for-naething,  were  I  at  yer  haffits  I  would  gi'e 
ye  yer  kail  through  the  reek!  I'll  dress  ye  up,  ye  lazy 
tawpie!  I'll  drive  some  smeddura  into  ye.  I  dinna  ken 
what  keeps  my  hand  frae  knockin'  yer  glaiket  hea<l 
against  the  wa',  to  think  that  Mr.  Wullson  has  come 
and  you — ."  "Say  nae  mair,  Martha,"  said  her  visitor; 
"  I  ken  ye  in  the  auld,  and  yer  bark  was  aye  worse  than 
your  bite.  I'm  unco  sure  ye  wadna'  wrang  a  hair  o' 
poor  Jenny's  head."  "  Oh,  Mr.  Wullson,"  said  the  old 
woman,  "  ye  ken  the  frailties  o'  ray  nature,"  and  she  sat 
down  beside  her  friend,  and  her  heart  was  full  and  she 
grat  wi'  very  gladness!  He  laid  his  hand  on  her 
shoulder  so  kindly,  and  he  said :  "  Martha,  it  does  ray 
heart  guid  to  get  awa  frae  the  dlnsome  toon,  frae  the 


t 

0 


■V 

1 

■"^i-w 

P 

■ 

1 

aw^XI 

St- 

m'-' 

: 

^^i:  t ' 

^    I 

'H 


48 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES, 


n-ek,  the  clash,  and  the  clavers — it  does  me  guid  to  see 
th«!  boor-tree  bush,  the  hawtliorn  liedges,  and  the 
bonnie  burn  wimplin'  awa  doon — joukin'  here  and 
hidein'  there,  and  stan<lin'  still  as  if  weary  o'  the  race! 
How  grand  it  is  to  hear  the  sough  o'  the  winds  among 
the  trees,  and  the  sigh  o'  the  silvery  stream  amang  the 
hills!  And,  Martha,  it  does  my  "Jieart  guid  to  see  ye 
ance  mair,  to  hear  ye  speak  the  words  o'  welcome  that 
well  up  frae  a  heart  that  has  aye  wished  that  the  bless- 
ings o'  the  Father  of  all  might  fa'  on  me  and  mine. 
Now,  Martha,  if  ye'U  come  wi'  rae  we'll  gang  ben  the 
house  and  see  yer  brother  Sandy."  "  Ye  needna  do 
that,"  said  she,  "for  he's  no  in;  he's  oot  in  the  kail-yard 
howkin'  the  'taties.  Sae  ye  can  gang  oot  and  get  a 
haver  wi'  him,  and  I'll  awa  and  look  after  Jenny;  and 
my  certy,  I'll  hurry  her  up!  and  we'll  ha'e  the  dinner 
ready  in  the  wag  o'  a  lamb's  tail."  With  this  Martha 
went  into  the  kitchen  and  John  Wilson,  professor  of 
moral  philosophy  in  the  University  of  Edinburgh,  and 
the  Christopher  North  of  BlackwoocVs  Magazine,  went 
out  to  the  kail-yard  to  ha'e  a  crack  wi'  auld  Sandy 
Pringle  ! 

As  previously  stated,  Sandy  was  somewhat  short- 
sighted, and  when  the  professor  said  "  hoo  are  ye, 
Sandy  ?"  he  lifted  his  bonnet  wd'  ae  hand,  and  the  other 
he  placed  above  his  eyes,  and  then  like  Trim,  when  he 
let  his  hat  fall  in  the  kitchen  before  Susanna,  Sandy  let 
his  bonnet  fall  into  the  potatoe  basket.  He  then  went 
close  up  to  the  questioner  with  mouth  and  eyes  open, 
and  gazed  up  in  his  face  through  a  pair  of  brass  gog- 
gles, and  then  he  drew  a  long  breath  and  cried,  "  Mr. 
Wullson,  as  I  am  a  livin'  sowl,  is  that  you,  or  is  it  yer 
ghost?     Dad  rabbit  my  picture,  a  sight  of  you  is  guid 


i'.     t 


SKETCHES    AVr>    ANECDOTES. 


49 


I 


for  sail'  e'en  ;  and  hoo  ha't*  ye  ])een,  and  lioo  has  this 
warld  o'  sin  and  misery  been  usein'  ye?  Whan  did  ye 
come,  hoo  did  ye  come,  and  hoo  is  every  inch  o'  ye  ? 
The  ne'er  o'  the  like  o't  was  ever  kent,  ye  slippit  on  me 
like  a  knotless  thread,  and  me  plowterin'  awa  amans^  tiie 
'taties!  Guid  keep  me,  man  I  what  way  did  ye  no  send 
a  body  word  that  ye  was  corain',  and  I  wad  ha'e  received 
ye  purpose  like,  wi'  a  clean  shaved  beard  and  ray  8ini- 
day  claes  on?  The  only  thing  that  makes  me  ferlie,  Mr. 
Wullson,  is,  that  dressed  in  ma  cordiirov  rags  ye  didna 

7  7  a  Cj  %, 

mistak'  me  for  a  'tatie  bogle.  But  hover  a  blink,  I'll  be 
upsides  wi'  ye  for  a'  that,  for  whan  I  gang  to  Edin- 
burgh to  see  ye,  I'll  come  on  ye  like  a  flash  o'  fire,  and 
we'll  ha'e  sic  a  time — we'll  be  out  and  in,  and  see  a'  the 
folk  and  the  ferlies,  and  our  tongues  will  just  gang  like 
twa  pen-guns.  But  I'm  doubtin'  I  would  soon  be 
tracheld  clean  dune,  and  be  glad  to  get  awa  hame  frae 
amang  ye  a'."  "  Now,  Sandy,"  said  the  professor,  ''  I 
dinna  want  to  hear  onv  mair  o'  ver  clashmaclavers. 
Ilka  year  ye  ha'e  tauld  me  the  same  story,  and  ye've 
never  yet  set  your  nose  past  my  door-cheek;  but  whan 
ever  ye  come,  Sandy,  ye  shall  be  made  welcome.  Tak' 
ray  word  for't,  ye  winna  stand  shiverin'  at  my  door  like 
a  dosr  in  a  wet  sack.'  "Ilech  rae!"  said  Sandv,  "Mr. 
Wullson,  ye  maun  excuse  me,  I  muckle  doot  I'm  getting 
fair  horn  daft!  I'm  beginning  to  think  that  I  will  never 
see  the  bonnie  toun  o'  Edinburgh.  The  notion  comes 
and  gangs  that  I  winna  be  lang  aboon  the  yird — that 
the  grass  will  soon  be  growin'  owre  my  grave.  My 
banes  are  a'  sair,  and  I  ha'e  an  unco  pain  in  the  links  o' 
ma  neck,  strikin'  doonwards  into  my  l)risket,  and  war.st 
o'  a',  I'm  getting  that  blind,  for  to  tell  ye  the  even  doon 
truth,  if  it  wasna  for  the  feel,  I  wadna  ken  a  chuckie 


0 


00 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


111! 


I.";' 


stane  t'rae  a  potatoe.  But  the  thinjif  that  vexes  me  mail* 
than  onything  else  is  when  Vm  ta'en  awa  wha  will  tliey 
get  to  sing  in  the  kirk  ?  There's  nane  in  a'  the  bounds 
can  raise  the  psalm,  wi'  the  exce[)tion  o'  Tarn  Dodds, 
but  ye  canna  ca't  singin'  for  the  muckle  sumph  just 
roars  like  a  coo  in  a  strange  loanin'.  IJut  niair  than 
that,  Mr.  VVullson,  I  canna  brag  muckle  o'  his  character. 
Sax  years  bye-gane,  come  next  St.  Bosweii's  fair,  he  gaed 
into  Kdinburgh  and  he  drank  till  he  hadna  ae  bawbee 
to  rub  against  another,  and  for  some  graceless  pliskie 
that  he  played  they  chained  him  up,  like  a  wild  beast, 
in  ane  o'  the  strongest  cells  o'  the  Tollbooth.  Noo,  Mr. 
Wullson,  after  that  exploit,  do  you  think  it  would  be 
creditable  to  mak'  him  the  second  man  iti  the  kirk  V" 
The  professor  laughed,  and  he  said  '*  that   the  minister 

and  the  elders  ought  to  be  the  best  judges."  "  Ye're 
wrang  there,  Mr.  Wullson,"  Sandy  replied;  "the  only 
music  notes  thev  ken  auarht  aboot  is  the  knots  in  their 
l)arriteli;  they're  like  the  lasses  o'  Lockermacus,  they 
a'  sing  by  the  lug.  But  there's  oor  Jenny,  she  can  sing, 
for  I  ha'e  gi'en  her  the  edication,  but  it  would  never  do, 
Mr.  VVullson,  to  set  her  up  in  the  desk.  Vet  I  ha'e  often 
thouglit  that  it  wad  ha'e  been  better,  if  it  had  been 
the  will  o'  Providence,  had  she  been  born  a  laddie 
instead  o'  a  lassie,  and  then  I  wad,  when  my  time  cam', 
gi'en  up  the  ghost  wi'  some  satisfaction."  As  Sandy 
uttered  the  last  word  he  stuck  the  spade  into  the  ground, 
by  way  of  adding  force  to  his  remarks.  Some  more 
words  Avere  gathering  about  his  tongue  roots  when  the 
lassie  Jenny,  with  her  face  newly  washed,  and  her  hair 
smoothly  t'ombed,  came  into  the  garden  with  a  step  as 
light  as  a  fairy,  and  bashfully  courtesyed  to  the  profes- 
sor,  and  said :     "  Mr.  Wullson,   you  and  Sandy  maun 


KK  ETCHES    AM)    ANECDOTEH. 


51 


come  aw.V  into  the  hooHe,  for  the  dinner's  reii<ly." 
"  Corne  awa  to  me  my  bonnie  hiHsie,"  said  the  professor, 
"  ve  surelv  canna  be  wee  Jennv  that  used  to  sit  on  mv 
knee?  dear  me,  ye  ha'e  spninj^  up  like  a  mushroom, 
and  Sandv,  she  will  soon  be  makin'  auld  men  o'  baith 
you  and  me.  Hut  come,  my  bonnie  bairn,  and  gi'e  me 
a  kiss  for  auld  lang  syne,''  but  Jenny  jf^iggled  and 
laughed  and  ran  into  the  house,  followed  by  the  profes- 
sor and  Sandy.  Mr.  Wilson  sat  down  on  his  accustomed 
seat  at  the  head  of  the  table,  and  there  this  Saul  among 
literary  men,  in  company  with  his  humble  friends, 
thanked  the  God  of  all  for  his  manifold  bounties. 

Next  day  Mr.  Wilson  started  off  early  with  his  bas- 
ket and  fishing-rod,  and  returned  late  in  the  evening. 
"  Noo,  Mr.  Wullson,"  cried  Martha,  *'  this  work  will 
never  do,  ve  maun  come  sooner  hame,  I  ha'e  had  ver 
four-hours  ready  I  dinna  ken  the  time — come  an<l  I  will 
help  ye  aff  wi'  the  creel.  Bliss  me,  my  certy,  ye  ha'e 
heckled  the  troots,  this  day,  the  reel  is  jusc  jammed, 
up  to  the  very  e'e-hole!  Just  look  at  thae  wallopers,  ye 
surely  maun  ha'e  catched  that  ane  up  at  the  Raven- 
craig,  or  in  the  big  pool  where  the  Dye  and  the  Whit- 
adder  meet,  and  just  see  that  ane,  by  a'  the  warld  they 
look  like  brithers.  But  what  am  I  standin'  here  for, 
haverin'  like  an  auld  henwife  ?  I  maun  flee  awa'  like  a 
pluff  o'  pouther  and  gut  the  troots.  Jenny!  Jenny!  ye 
little  liramer,  get  doon  the  fryin'-pan,  the  flour,  the  saut, 
and  the  pepper,  and  dinna  stand  there  gapin'  as  if  ye 
was  catchin'  sparrows  wi'  yer  mouth!" 

Professor  Wilson,  as  was  his  usual  custom,  remained 
for  a  number  of  days  at  Abbey  St.  Bithans,  and  when 
the  day  cume,  before  bid<ling  his  humble  friends  fare- 
well, he  promised  to  again  pay  them  a  visit  about  the 


c 

0 

(0 


vl).    i' 


ill 


i'J- 


52 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


J 


same  time  next  year.  Martha  watched  his  way-going 
till  he  reached  the  turn  of  the  road,  and  he  looked  back, 
and  he  raised  his  hat  and  waved  his  hand,  and  the  good 
old  woman  sat  down  on  her  doorstep  and  burst  into  a 
flood  of  tears,  and  she  said,  "  the  sunshine  has  gane  oot 
o'  my  heart ! " 

Time  flew  past  with  its  joys  and  its  sorrows,  and  on 
the  following  autumn  P"of.  Wilson  again  paid  a  visit 
to  Abbey  St.  Bathans,  but  Martha  Pringle  was  not 
there  to  bid  him  M^elcome.  On  the  Sabbath  day  he 
attended  the  village  church,  and  after  the  services  he 
went  into  the  church  yard.  He  uncovered  his  head. 
He  raised  his  eyes  to  Heaven.  The  tears  streamed 
down  his  cheeks  and  fell  upon — the  new  made  grave  of 
Martha  Pringle  ! 


SHOOT  HIM  CANNY. 

There  was  an  auld  man,  ca'd  Tamniie  Mackay, 

And  he  lived  in  a  cot  at  the  back  o"  the  brae. 

Nae  kinder  auld  man  e'er  drew  breath  in  the  Merse, 

But  auld  Lizzie,  his  wife,  was  tlie  very  reverse. 

She  had  girned,  and  glutchcil  till  nae  ane  could  trace 

Ae  line  o'  content  on  her  auld  wrinkled  face, 

And  the  langer  she  lived  tlie  aul;l  body  cow'd  a' 

She  wad  quarrel  and  fight  wi'  a  hole  in  the  wa". 

Ae  mornia'  she  rofic  at  the  break  'o  the  day, 

And  she  yelled  and  she  roared  to  auld  Tammie  Maokay, 

"Get  up,  Tarn,  get  up,  though  ye  dee  wi'  remorse, 

This  minit  get  up,  Tarn,  and  shoot  the  auld  horse — 

He's  feckless,  he's  auld,  he  has  lived  lang  eneugh, 

He's  no  tit  to  yoke  in  a  cart  or  a  pleugh. 

Tarn,  shoot  him  clean  dead,  or  by  day  and  by  nicht 

I'll  gi'e  ye  nae  peace  till  he's  oot  o'  ma  sicht." 

Tarn  pu'd  o«  his  claes,  and  he  clawed  at  his  head, 

And  he  loaded  his  musket  wi'  pouther  and  lead. 

He  gade  oot  at  the  door  and  his  woes  were  increas'd 

When  he  heard  the  birds  sing,  "  Dinna  shoot  the  puir  beast." 


rrn' 


SKETCHES  AND  ANECDOTES. 


63 


He  gade  doon  by  the  burn,  and  he  shed  the  sau't  tear, 
When  he  saw  his  crippled  auld  freeud  hobble  near. 
To  Donald  he  spoke,  and  he  lookit  sae  wae 
When  he  said,  "  Its  a  sorrowfu'  meetin'  this  day." 

"Oh,  Donaldl  poor  Donald,  I'd  sooner  lie  dead 

Afore  I  wad  ruffle  a  hair  o'  your  head; 

But  I'll  e'en  t^ann  and  speak  to  young  Rab  o'  the  dell, 

And  tell  him  to  do  what  I'll  no  do  masel'.* 

He  met  wi'  young  Ral),  and  he  said,  "  Wae  is  me, 

Our  Lizzie's  determined  auld  Donald  maun  dee." 

And  o'er  his  wan  ( liefks  the  waefu'  tears  ran, 

When  he  sai*!,  "  ."^ihoot  him  canny,  rale  canny,  my  man." 


FRANCIE  DEWAR'S  SICKNESS. 

On  Birky-knowe,  in  a  wee  house, 

There  liv'd  a  man  oa'd  Francie  Dewar, 
He  lived  contented,  bein  and  crouse, 

For  Francie  was  a  bonnet-feuar. 
His  sister  was  a  gruesome  maid, 

She'd  lost  a'  hope  o'  men  or  marriage; 
Pernickity  she  was  and  staid. 

And  had  a  most  majestic  carriage. 

She  had  twa  e'en  as  black  as  pick, 

The  feint  a  word  do  I  dissemble, 
I  swear  they'd  pierce  ye  to  the  quick 

They'd  make  the  verydeevil  tremble! 
Now  Francie  owned  a  guid  kail-yard; 

Ae  day  he  neither  delved  or  dibbel'd, 
For  sickness  caught  him  by  the  beard ; 

His  sister  ran  for  Dr.  Sibbald. 


C 

0 


The  doctor  cam',  he  looked  him  o'er, 

He  tried  his  heart,  he  felt  it  beating, 
He  ordered  drugs,  and  furthermore, 

He  charged  him  to  abstain  from  eating. 
His  sister  gave  him  dose  on  dose, 

Until  reduced  to  skin  and  bone, 
And  when  he  asked  for  beef  or  brose 

She  shook  her  head  and  gave  a  groan. 


v 


M 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


1  I 


"  Ob,  mercy,  me!"  poor  Francie  cried, 

"  Oh.  sister  dear,  I'm  unco  ill;" 
She  looked  at  him  as  if  he  lied, 

Then  plied  him  with  another  pill. 
"  Oh!  why  should  I  repine,"  he  cried, 

"  Like  some  outlandish  whipper-snapper. 
Although  I've  neither  boiled  or  fried, 

I've  drugs  wad  fill  a  miller's  bapper." 

How  meek  he  swallow'd  dose  on  dose. 

Until  his  pulse  wad  scarcely  beat, 
And  oft,  to  crown  his  weary  woes, 

His  sister  yelled;     "You  must  not  eat." 
He  wning  bis  hands  and  aft  he  said : 

"  I  doot  I'll  soon  gi'e  up  the  ghost." 
Yet  still  the  auld  cantankerous  maid 

Wad  neither  give  him  tea  or  toast! 

He  bad  a  night-cap  on  his  head, 

And  it  was  strapped  aneath  his  chin; 
His  feet  were  just  as  cauld  as  lead, 

Cauld,  cauld  was  he  baith  out  and  in. 
Some  thought  the  kink-boast  he  had  got, 

But  an  auld  wife,  ca'd  Jean  Carnagie, 
Said :     ' '  I'll  be  either  hang'd  or  shot 

If  Francie  basna'  the  lumbago. " 

Auld  Peggy  Deans  cuist  up  her  nose. 

And  then  she  said:     "  Ga'e  wa,  bout  tout, 
I'll  wager  twa  three  pints  o'  brose, 

If  Francie  basna'  got  the  gout." 
As  thus  they  snapped  at  ilk  like  dowgs. 

Poor  Francie  ga'e  a  violent  sneeze ; 
Then  Peg  Dale  cried:    "I'll  bet  ma  lugs 

That  he  has  got  the  heart  di.seaso." 

But  Tibbie  Mack  cried:     "  Cease  your  strife 

And  she  got  in  a  perfect  frenzy, 
"  I'm  ready  to  lay  doon  ma  life 

If  it  is  no'  the  influenza. " 
They  wrangled  loud,  they  wrangled  lang. 

They  got  as  mad  as  mad  could  be; 
They  a'  cried  out,  "  I'm  right,  ye 're  wrang," 

Losh!  how  the  wives  did  disagree. 


ani 

tie 

his 

he 

tin 

wit 

8al( 

pri 

«F 

aw 

bui 


;5'  ,.•  {!■ 


■  ;•{! 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


55 


Poor  Francie's  nerves  were  a'  unstrung. 

Hech!  through  his  head  their  words  played  clatter; 
While  he  could  scarcely  wag  his  tongue, 

Or  spier  at  them  what  was  the  matter. 
I've  aften  wonder'd  how  these  wives 

Could  kick  up  sic  a  great  uproar; 
They  should  be  careful  o'  men's  lives, 

When  death  is  knocking  at  the  door. 

Not  one  of  them  did  e'er  opine 

That  Francie  upon  this  occasion, 
Was  lying  there  in  a  decline 

With  naught  but  eveu-doon  starvation. 
In  nick  o'  time  the  doctor  cam'. 

The  sister  strongly  he  berated. 
He  ordered  mutton,  beef  and  ham, 

And  Francie  soon  recuperateci. 

To  the  auld  maid  he  spoke'his  mind 

As  he  in  wrath  did  stand  and  view  her. 
My  faith!  he  halflius  was  inclin'd 

To  send  his  very  lancet  through  her! 
Had  Francie  died,  baith  wives  and  men 

Would  shed  a  tear  in  his  behalf — , 
But  as  for  me  I'd  seized  a  pen. 

And  written  Francie's  epitaph! 


I'LL  BARK  MYSELF 

Thomas  Mclilwrick  was  born  in  Paisley,  Scotland, 
and  emigrated  to  thij»  country  in  the  yeai  1 850,  and  set- 
tled near  Alraont,  Mich.  In  all  these  years  he  has  supped 
his  porridge  with  the  horn-spoon  of  content  and  at  night 
he  has  slept  soundly  in  the  arms  of  wwcct  repose.  Some 
time  ago  he  paid  a  visit  to  Detroit  and  he  saw  a  boy 
witli  two  young  dogs  in  a  basket.  "  Are  thesfc'  dogs  for 
sale?"  said  he.  "Yes,"  said  the  boy.  "What  is  the 
price?"  said  he.  "  One  dollar  and  a  half,"  said  the  boy. 
"  For  both?"  said  he.  "  For  one,"  said  the  boy.  "  Gang 
awa'  wi'  ye,"  said  he;  "I  will  sooner  bark  maseP  than 
buy  dogs  so  dear." 


)■ 


I 


II 


56 


SKETCHES   AND   ANECDOTES. 


m 


:  I' 


IM    : 


'f^l: 


NO  EXPERIENCE. 


George  Tamson  carae  out  of  Scotland  many  years 
ago,  and  settled  down  in  London,  Ontario.  He  brought 
a  wife  along  with  him,  and  when  matters  went  out  of 
kilter  she  would  kick  up  her  heels,  and  give  George, 
right  or  wrong,  the  worst  word  in  her  mouth.  One  day 
she  fell  foul  of  him,  and  he  with  a  sore  heart  and  droop- 
ing head  went  into  an  inner  room.  To  divert  his 
thoughts  he  took  up  a  Scotch  song-book.  After  read- 
ing awhile  he  said  to  himself:  "  The  Scottish  poets  are 
a'  horn  mad — they're  just  a  pack  o'  clashin',  daverin' 
idiots.  Ane  o'  them  sings  aboot  his  idol  in  this  bom- 
bastical  strain: 

'  Her  hair  is  the  wing  o'  the  blackbird, 

Her  eye  is  the  eye  o'  the  dove, 
Her  lips  are  the  ripe  blushing  rose-bud 

Her  bosom  the  palace  o'  love.' 

"  Another  sings — 

'  And  ye  shall  wear  when  ye  are  wed, 

The  kirtle  and  the  Highland  plaid, 
And  sleep  upon  a  heather  bed, 

Sae  cozy  and  sae  canty. ' 

"  Another — 

'  The  birds  that  sing  in  green-wood  shaw 

In  sangs  their  love  may  tell, 
But  words  can  never  speak  the  love 

I  ha'e  for  Jeanie  Bell. " 

"  Another — 

'  At  gloamin'  if  my  lane  I  be, 

Oh,  but  I'm  wonderous  eerie,  O, 
And  mony  a  heavy  sigh  I  gie 
When  absent  frae  my  dearie,  O.'  " 

With  a  look  of  contempt  George  flung  down  the 
book  that  contained  our  glorious  love-lyrics,  and 
exclaimed:  "The  poor  fools — they  had  nae  experience." 


SKETCHES    AND    AXECDOTES. 


sr 


THE  JUDGE  LAUGHED  IMMODERATELY. 


»» 


» 


The  late  Judge  Rush  Bagg  and  Mr.  Geo.  Devenport, 
still  alive,  were  bosom  friends.  When  in  company  they 
frequently  said,  "  Here's  to  your  very  good  health,"  and 
"  So  be  it."  One  day  George  got  into  a  brawl  and  was 
taken  prisoner,  and  brought  before  the  judge.  Previous 
to  the  opening  of  court  Mr.  Bagg  got  wind  of  the  mat- 
ter and  advised  him  to  plead  guilty,  which  he  did,  and 
was  fined  $5.     When  this  was  done,  up  started  a  lawyer 

and  said:     "  But,  your  honor" "  Hold  your  tongue, 

cried  the  judge,  "  I  want  none  of  your  buts.  If  you  do 
not  sit  down  I  will  send  you  up  for  60  days.  The  court 
is  adjourned."  When  the  judge  descended  from  the 
seat  of  justice  Mr.  Devenport  grasped  him  by  the  hand 
and  they  and  a  few  more  friends  adjourned  to  a  tavern 
liard  by.  For  several  hours  Care  took  a  back  seat,  and 
Fun  and  Frolic  danced  a  hornpipe  among  the  glasses. 
Wlien  the  shades  of  evening  began  to  prevail,  George 
was  about  to  take  his  leave,  but  before  doing  so  the 
judge,  in  high  feather,  whispered  into  his  ear,  "  Give 
another  man  a  clip."  On  the  road  home  our  living  hero 
went  into  a  barber's  shop,  and  after  some  angry  words 
the  barber  informed  him  "  that  he  could  whip  a  bushel 
basket  full  of  such  as  he."  These  words  no  sooner  fell 
from  his  lips  when  George  immediately  broke  a  wash- 
hand  basin  over  his  head.  For  doing  this,  next  morn- 
ing, he  was  again  taken  before  the  judge.  On  hearing 
the  evidence  the  judge  said:  "  Prisoner,  how  did  you 
do  it?"  "  If  I  had  a  wash-hand  basin  I  would  show  your 
honor,"  was  the  reply.  A  basin  was  brought,  where- 
upon, as  quick  as  lightning,  the  prisoner  broke  it  over 
the  head  of  the  barber.  The  judge  laughed  immoder- 
ately. At  length  he  said:  "To  err  is  human;  to  for- 
give, divine.     It  is  a  most  aggravated  case  of  assault 

and  battery;  the  prisoner  is  discharged." 
5 


i . 


:■:.[ 


^8 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


1^- 


GILL,  SCOTT,  AND  THE  VENTRILOQUIST. 

Quo*  Sandy  Gill  to  Bess,  his  wife, 

*'  I'm  tired  o'  workin'  a'  my  life, 

And  if  ye  dinna  muckle  heed 

I'll  tak'  a  turn  doou  to  the  Tweed; 

The  day  is  fine,  I  ha'e  nae  doots, 

I'll  ha'e  braw  sport  amang  the  troots." 

Bess  had  a  tongue  could  clip  a  rag, 
She  was  the  ane  could  mak'  it  wag ; 
When  passion  struck  her  'neath  the  wing 
iShe'd  make  the  very  girdle  ring. 
But  independent  o'  a'  this 
She  didna  act  so  far  amiss; 
Wi'  hands  upon  her  twa  sides  press'd, 
Her  mim -mou'd  man  she  thus  address'd — 
"  Aweel,"  quo'  she,  "  awa  ye  gang; 
This  while  ye  ha'e  been  unco  thrang. 
The  proverb's  guid  '  enough's,  eneugh,' 
My  certy!  ye've  been  workin'  teugh; 
Guid  faith  I  ye'd  neither  sink  nor  soom, 
But  just  sit  yerkin'  at  the  loom; 
Yes,  Sandy,  ye've  plyed  at  the  wark, 
Frae  early  mornin'  doon  till  dark, 
I've  aften  said  to  your  ain  mither 
•   Your  constitution  was  like  leather, 
Your  constitution !  wha  did  mak'  it  ? 
Tak'  care  ye  dinna  rend  or  rack  it, 
I  ha'e  a  dread  when  ance  it's  broken 
'Twill  no  be  worth  a  wither'd  docken; 
A  leg  that's  hale  frae  toe  to  hilt. 
Is  better  than  a  wooden  stilt. 
Oh!  if  your  mind  should  gang  a-jce, 
I  ask  what  would  become  o'  me? 
Oh!  Sandy,  man,  I  ha'e  nae  doot, 
I'd  greet,  till  baith  my  e'en  fell  oot! 
There's  time  to  work,  there's  time  to  play, 
Ye've  my  consent  to  tak'  the  day; 
The  kye  when  they're  wi'  heat  oppress'd, 
They  a'  lie  doon  and  tak'  a  rest; 
The  bees  in  summer  'mang  the  bow'rs. 
Sip  hinnie  frae  the  bonnie  flow'rs. 


wm 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


59 


And,  Sandy,  if  accounts  are  true, 
They  doze  and  sleep  the  winter  through; 
And  e'en  the  sheep  amang  the  heather, 
Lie  doon  and  sleep  for  hours  thegither; 
There's  e'en  a  hen,  poor  donnert  thing, 
She  slips  her  neb  aneath  her  wing — " 

Poor  Sandy  ken'd  it  did  afflict  her, 
On  sic  like  points  to  contradict  her; 
And  here,  to  married  men,  I  say. 
Just  let  your  wives  get  a'  their  way, 
For  mercy's  sake!    O,  ne'er  misuse  them, 
Or,  by  my  faith,  ye  soon  will  lose  them ; 
On  history's  page  we  there  may  find, 
By  hook  or  crook  they've  ruled  mankind; 
And  yet  experience  bids  me  say, 
They  are  the  sunshine  of  our  day! 

As  Sandy  stood  he  gave  a  groan, 
But  Bessie  heedless  rattled  on — 
"  My  grannie  had  a  head  uncommon, 
She  was  an  extraor'nar'  woman, 
When  kink-hoast  raged,  or  croup  was  rife, 
Her  herbs  and  skill  saved  monie  a  life; 
She  said  that  bats  i'  holes  o'  wa's 
Would  hing  for  months  up  by  their  claws; 
She  tauld  us  late  and  ere  to  treasure 
The  guid  auld  say — 'There's  luck  in  leisure;' 
She'd  sit  and  rest,  and  smoke,  and  speak 
Contented,  though  half-sinoor'd  wi'  reek; 
Though  near-hand  blind,  and  auld,  and  lame 
She  took  the  world  as  it  came; 
Ance  in  her  life  she  raised  a  row 
When  her  twa  mutcli-strings  gaed  a-lowe, 
Losh  me!    She  owrc  the  table  coupit, 
As  up  she  bang'd  and  roar'd  and  loupit ! 
Sic  usefu'  lessons  then  say  I, 
There  is  nae  need  to  multiply; 
The  ways  o'  nature  are  the  best, 
Baith  men  and  brutes  demand  a  rest; 
Sae  get  your  rod,  and  get  your  reel, 
Your  hecklin'  hooks,  and  fishing-creel, 


,M 


c 


60 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


|[ 


Awa  ye  gang — draw  on  your  boots 
And  bring  us  hame  a  creel  o'  troots, 
And,  Sandy,  man,  sae  soon's  ye're  gone 
I'll  set  to  wark  and  bake  a  scone, 
When  ye  come  hame,  'tween  you  and  me, 
Ye'll  get  some  extras  to  your  tea." 

Sae  soon  as  he  was  out  o'  sight, 
The  wife  began  wi'  a'  her  might. 
To  bake  the  scones  and  sweep  the  floor, 
And  raise  a  whirlwind  o'  stour. 
And  in  the  middle  o'  the  racket, 
She  coupit  owre  the  auld  saut  backet, 
And  do  sic  dirdoms  in  the  flurry, 
As  wives  will  do  when  in  a  hurry. 

Doon  in  the  pool  up  to  his  knees, 
See!    Sandy  gives  his  hooks  a  heeze, 
His  heart  loups  up  wi'  keen  delight, 
For  Sandy  has  received  a  bite; 
And  here  in  serious,  solemn  mood. 
And  just  by  way  of  interlude, 
I  cry,  O  youth,  beware,  beware — 
The  baited  hook,  the  tempters  snare. 
The  nettle  plucked  in  pleasure's  bower 
Will  sting  you  till  your  latest  hour; 
Countless  the  wrecks  on  ruin's  road — 
The  hand  of  Virtue  leads  to  God! 

How  bonnie  was  that  autumn  morn, 
The  craik  was  craikin'  'mang  the  corn, 
The  rabbits  birrin'  on  the  brae, 
And  owls  and  hawks  no  far  away; 
Dame  Nature  was  in  glorious  glee, 
The  shillfa'  sang  upon  the  tree, 
The  lintie's  notes — how  sweet  they  glided,. 
And  high  o'er  a'  the  lark  presided ; 
The  bard  would  sing  a  canty  strain, 
Tweedside!  to  see  thee  once  again. 

A  'Triloquist,  and  Walter  Scott, 
Went  out  that  morn  to  ha'e  a  sliot, 
And  when  they  baith  had  shot  their  fill,^ 
They  dander'd  doon  on  Sandy  Gill; 


tl!   J 


!    i' 


SKETCHES    AND    AXECDOTES.  61  '    '       I 


i 


! 


The  'Triloquist  to  show  his  art,  p  j 

And  cheer  the  mighty  minstrel's  heart, 

Ahint  a  tree  took  up  his  stand, 

To  watch  the  fisher  ply  his  wand; 

Up  frae  the  pool  a  trout  play'd  splash, 

The  trout  roared  out  "  Ye  muckle  hash, 

Daft  Sandy  Gill,  just  gang  away, 

Auld  Nick  will  heckle  you  this  day!" 

Out  o'  the  water  Sandy  sprang, 
His  flflhing-rod  away  he  flang. 
Upon  the  bank  wi'  fear  he  reels. 
Then  hameward  he  takes  to  his  heels. 
Nae  ram-race  runner  could  arrest  him, 
He  ran  as  if  Auld  Nick  possess'd  him 
When  in  the  house  he  cried,  "Oh!  Bess, 
I'm  owre  the  lugs  in  great  distress, 
I  speak  the  truth,  may  Satan  stew  me. 
The  very  troots  were  speakin'  to  me. 
Oh!  make  my  bed,  for  sure's  I'm  born 
I  will  be  dead  afore  the  morn, 
Oh,  dear!  oh,  dear!  my  head,  my  head. 
Oh,  gang  and  bake  my  burial  bread; 
Oh,  Bess!  Oh,  Bess!  guid  guide  us  a', 

I'll  soon  be  into  the  dead-thraw;  ^^ 

Strap  doon  my  night-cowl  'neath  my  chin,  ||J 

My  bed!  my  bed!  let  me  loup  in! 
Pu'  aflP  my  boots;  no,  keep  them  on, 
And  pu'  them  aff  when  I  am  gone; 
Send  for  the  elders,  ane  and  a', 
Afore  my  final  breath  I  draw. 
The  minister  ye  needna  coax, 
I  doot  he  isna  orthodox. 
The  troot!  the  troot!  1  see  it  yet, 
See,  there  it  loups  at  the  bed-fit; 
I'll  soon  fa'  into  Satan's  hands, 
Oh!  Bess,  say  ower  the  Ten  Commands; 
Bess,  when  I'm  dead  just  greet  your  fill 
Abune  the  banes  o'  Sandy  Gill!" 

As  thus  his  mind  in  frenzy  wander'd,  -^ 

Poor  Bessie  stood  amazed,  dumfoundw'd. 
Her  heart  like  a  meal-mUl  gaed  knockin'. 
Her  plans  and  projects  a'  were  broken. 


1 

d 
0 


\''- 


69 


8KBTCHBS   AND    ANBCDOTBS. 


Oh!  Bessie,  Bessie,  realize. 
There's  nothing  sure  aneath  the  skies; 
That  pot  o'  kail  now  on  the  clips, 
Ae  drap  may  never  reach  your  lips; 
That  butter'd  scone  within  your  grab, 
Ae  bite  may  never  gust  your  gab. 

Meanwhile  Sir  Walter  on  the  bank, 
Upon  the  gow'ny  sward  played  clank, 
On  fancy'a  wing  I  see  him  sit 
And  laugh  as  if  his  sides  would  split; 
And  when  the  cat  got  out  the  pock. 
E'en  Sandy  Oill  enjoyed  the  joke. 

But  Bessie  had  a  lot  to  say. 
She  yatter'd  'bout  it  night  and  day, 
She  trow'd  it  was  a  deep  laid  plan 
To  wreck  and  ruin  her  guidman; 
She  swore  some  day  she'd  catch  the  wizard. 
And  wi'  her  nails  rive  out  his  gizzard; 
She'd  do'tl    She'd  take  her  affidavit. 
Though  she  should  swing  in  hempen  gravit. 
To  stop  her  vengeaace  there  was  nae  man. 
Though  she  should  hing  as  high  as  Baman. 

But  Walter  Scott  to  stop  her  clatters, 
Threw  oil  upon  the  troubled  waters, 
He  sent  her  owre  a  braw  new  bonnet, 
Wi'  gum-flowers  and  wi'  ribbons  on  it, 
A  bow  o'  'taties  in  a  pock, 
Twa  rabbits  and  a  bubbly-jock; 
And  tlius  her  wrath  was  mollified, 
Wi*  glee  to  Sandy  Gill  she  cried— 
"  If  e'er  a  son  fa's  to  my  lot, 
I'll  name  him  after  Walter  Scott  I" 


THE  LIBERTY  OF  THE  PRESS. 

A  great  number  of  clashes  and  clavers  are  laid  at 
the  doors  o'  individuals  that  ha'e  nae  foundation  in  fact. 
The  following  anecdote  can  be  relied  on,  as  I  took  the 
words  down  with  great  precision  as  they  fell  frae  the 
lips  of  the  narrator: 


SKETCHES  AND  ANECDOTES. 


63 


"  I  was  born  in  Peebles  and  ma  name  is  John  Park. 
Mungo  Park,  the  African  explorer,  was  a  relation  o* 
mine — his  mither  being  my  grand-aunty  by  ma  father's 
side.  Ma  father  was  a  shoemaker,  and  it  behooved  him 
to  get  me  a  step-mither  whan  I  was  15  years  auld.  Ae 
forenoon  I  was  unco  hungry  and  I  gaed  into  the  house 
to  get  a  daud  o'  bannock,  but  she  had  the  press  door 
lockit.  I  took  a  bar  o'  iron  and  pried  it  open  and  an 
unco  Shirramuir  began.  Ma  father,  as  some  fathers  will 
do,  took  ma  step-mither's  part,  and  I  ran  awa,  and 
stayed  awa  for  1 0  lang  years.  Ae  day  I  gat  word  that 
ma  father  was  unco  ill,  sae  I  thought  it  was  ma  bounden 
duty  to  gang  bame  and  see  him.  I  gaed  into  the  house 
and  he  was  in  bed,  but  he  kent  rae.  He  raised  his  head 
off  the  bowster  and  he  said:  "Come  awa,  Jock,  I 
ha'ena'  seen  ye  for  10  years.  Ye  maun  be  famishin' — 
ye  maun  surely  be  unco  hungry."  \Vi'  this  he  says  to 
ma  step-mither:  "Nannie  !  it  wad  gie  me  a  degree  o* 
satisfaction  if  ye  wad  gie  Jock  the  liberty  o'  the  press.'* 


HOME,  SWEET  HOME. 

Ralph  Whitehead  was  a  shepherd  awa'  up  amang  the 
hills.  His  grandson,  young  Ralph,  attended  the  par- 
ochial school  and  was  an  apt  scholar.  In  due  course  he 
was  sent  to  the  University  o'  Edinburgh.  When  he  left 
he  had  on  a  Tarn  o'  Shanter  bonnet,  a  corduroy  jacket 
and  a  pair  o'  moleskin  breeks.  At  the  end  o'  the  session, 
when  he  cam'  back,  he  had  on  a  beaver  hat,  a  long  tailed 
coat  and  a  pair  o'  braw  new  breeks.  Young  Ralph 
rushed  into  the  house  and  found  his  grandfather  sittin' 
by  the  fire.  He  grasped  hira  by  the  hand  and  cried: 
"Dulce  Domum,  dulce  Domum."  Quo'  auld  Ralph, 
"  That's  no  ma  name — I  dinna  ken  ye  f  rae  Adam — get  out 
o'  this  hoose  ye  infernal  idiot  or  I'll  set  the  dowgs  on  ye 


0 


»» 


64 


SKKTCItKS    AND    AXICCliOTKS. 


11 


It 


SIR  WALTER  SCOTT. 
lIiiHcrlbed  to  Chah,  MAfKENZiE.  Ehq.,  M.  P.  P..  Saruia,  Oat/ 

Thou  mighty  minstrel  of  tlie  north, 
The  wifle  world  knows  thy  name, 

Thou  uniipi)roa(;lu'(l,  how  strong  ye  stand 
Upon  the  hill  of  fame! 

Wotjld  I  could  weave  a  hamely  song. 
With  thought  and  word  complete, 

That  I,  a  rustic  bard,  might  pay 
My  homage  at  thy  feet. 

Thy  border  harp  how  sweet  its  tune, 

It  knew  no  tinselled  art, 
It  knew  each  thought  that  woke  and  lived, 

Or  slumbered  in  the  lieart. 

Kind  nature  was  your  truthful  guide, 

She  never  led  thee  wrong, 
She  taught  thee  how  to  touch  the  heart 

With  words  of  living  song! 

The  border  peels^,  the  battle  fields. 

The  tower,  the  guarded  way, 
Tlie  clash  of  arms,  no  pen  but  thine 

Could  venture  to  portray. 

Thou  glean'd  from  ev'ry  shade  of  life — 

From  all  its  varied  scenes. 
How  pure  your  page!  pure  as  the  thoughts 

Of  thy  own  Jennie  Deans. 

Hail,  mighty  minstrel  of  the  north. 
Lone  would  have  been  my  hours, 

Had  thou  not  dulled  the  edge  of  care. 
And  strewed  my  path  with  flowers. 

Thou  taught  us  how  our  fathers  fought 
With  sword,  and  bow,  and  brand, 

Thou  penned  this  line,  "  This  is  my  own. 
My  own,  my  native  land." 

Sweet  Scotland's  bard!  true  poet— king. 
Though  mouldering  in  the  clay. 

Your  patriot  words  will  last  and  live 
Till  time  shall  pass  away! 


T 


SKETCHES    AND    AVECnOTE«. 


6r> 


NO  STKKNGTH. 


Bauldy  Balfour  was  an  auotioiieer  on  the  Borders. 
Ac  day  he  roupit  aflF  a  number  o'  grass  parks,  and  after 
the  roup  was  over  the  company  sat  doon  to  dinner  in 
the  ptiblic-hoose.  After  *he  dinner  tlie  toddy  was  as 
plentiful  as  rain  water  in  wash  tubs.  The  toddy  had 
the  effect  o'  makin'  Bauldy  unco  canty  and  frolicsome, 
and  next  raornin'  whan  his  head  was  on  the  bowster,  and 
it  was  reelin'  round  like  a  cart  wheel  at  full  speed,  in 
bangs  his  mither-in-law  upon  him.  Ma  certy,  she  did 
gie  him  a  rakin'  over  the  coals — she  howkit  doon  to  the 
very  roots  o'  his  character.  When  she  went  awa  and 
left  him  to  his  misery,  he  says  to  hissel',  *  Dod  rabbit 
her  picture,  if  I  only  had  had  ony  strength  remainin'  I 
wad  hae  lifted  up  ma  hammer  and  knockit  her  doon  to 
the  highest  bidder." 


NOTHING  LEFT. 

In  Scotland  "ye  are  like  the  cooper  o'  Fogo — your 
father's  better  " — is  a  household  saying.  I  have  been  at 
some  trouble  to  find  out  the  origin  of  this  saying,  and 
find  that  Joseph  Walkingshaw  was  a  cooper  in  Fogo. 
He  had  a  son  whose  name  was  Alexander,  who  invented 
a  wooden  dish  far  superior  to  any  dish  his  father  had 
ever  manufactured.  The  dish  was  round,  and  it  had 
two  cavities.  From  the  first  cavity  he  would  sup  his 
broth,  and  when  that  was  done  he  would  turn  the  dish 
up,  and  from  the  second  cavity  he  would  cleanly  there- 
from eat  his  beef.  From  this  invention  came  the  saying 
above  alluded  to.  A  curious  storv  is  related  of  old 
Walkingshaw,  which  may  here  be  introduced.  One  day 
'e  put  a  lot  of  woodenware  articles  into  his  donkey  cart, 
id  he  and  the  donkey  proceeded  to  St.  Boswell's  fair. 


0 


h 


J 


66 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


He  had  a  ready  sale,  and  on  returning  homeward  lie 
found  he  had  only  a  few  wooden  ladles  left.  Some 
horsemen  were  anxious  to  pass  on  the  road,  but  old 
Walkingshaw  was  not  to  be  done.  He  tied  these  ladle* 
to  the  donkey's  tail  and  off  the  brute  went,  helter-skelter, 
like  a  shot  out  of  a  cannon.  When  he  reached  home  his 
wife  came  out  with  a  bouet  or  lamp  and  she  looked  at 
the  ladles,  then  she  set  down  the  light  and  raised  her 
hands  and  cried:  "Bliss  my  soul,  Joseph,  there's  naeth- 
ing  left  but  the  shanks!" 


\l 


M-l 


COME  HAME. 

[iQacribed  to  Ric\.  Dr.  Hkndehson,  Detroit.] 

My  'ove,  my  beautiful,  my  own, 

I'm  sitting  a'  alane; 
O,  how  I  long  to  hear  thy  step 

And  welcome  thee  .  gain. 
There's  naething  now  looks  bright  to  me, 

The  sunshine's  left  my  ha', 
There's  nae  ane  now  to  cheer  my  heart 

Since  ye  ha'e  gane  awa.' 

The  sun's  gane  doon  ayont  the  hill, 

And  night  steals  slowly  nigh — 
Tis  gloomy  night,  the  weary  winds 

Around  me  moan  and  sigh. 
My  love!  at  midnight's  silent  hour 

I  saw  thee  come  to  me, 
1  saw  thee  in  thy  youthful  bloom 

Come  tripping  o'er  the  lea. 

I  woke  to  find  it  but  a  dream, 

A  vision  of  the  night — 
Come  hame,  come  hame,  my  darlint',  come. 

Come  iiame  my  heart's  delight. 
O,  come  again,  my  life,  my  love, 

And  till  my  heart  with  glee. 
The  whispering  winds  no  more  will  sigh 

When  ye  come  back  to  me. 


!=.■,! 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


67 


STRENGTH  OF  WILL. 

Laird  Hume  resided  in  a  toon  in  the  bonnie  border 
land.  He  was  a  man  o'  strong  will,  and  in  the  greatest 
emergencies  was  never  known  to  seek  the  advice  of  man 
or  woman.  He  once  said :  "  I  ha'e  come  to  the  con- 
clusion, monie  a  year  bye  gane,  that  whan  a  man  pits 
his  property  into  the  hands  o'  a  lawyer,  his  body  into 
the  hands  of  a  doctor,  and  his  soul  into  the  hands  o'  a 
udnister,  he  had  better  just  lie  doon  in  his  kail-yard  and 
die." 


NOTHING  CERTAIN. 

The  estimated  age  of  John  Nicoll  is  75  years,  and 
the  estimated  age  of  Mrs.  McRobbie  is  55  years.  The 
twasome  met  on  the  street,  and  quoth  John:  "Mrs. 
McRobbie,  ye  promised  to  pay  me  the  siller  that  ye 
owe  me  mair  than  a  score  o'  times,  but  it's  promise  here 
and  promise  there,  and  I  doubt  I'll  be  obliged  to  take 
promises  for  payment."  On  hearing  this  Mrs.  McRob- 
bie tried  to  stave  him  off  to  the  best  of  her  ability. 
John,  however,  stuck  to  his  text,  and  very  ungallantly 
said:  "Mrs.  McRobbie  ye  ha'e  a  graceless  face,  and  a 
graceless  face  is  scant  o'  grace,  and  I  am  forced  to 
come  to  the  conclusion  that  when  women  get  over  the 
fifties  they  are  neither  answerable  for  their  words  or 
actions.  I  cannot  for  one  moment  depend  upon  a  word 
ye  say.  I  was  mair  than  sure  that  ye  would  pay  me, 
but  there  is  nothing  certain  in  this  uncertain  world." 
"  Tuts,"  quo'  she,  "  gang  awa  and  mend  your  manners, 
for  I  weel  I  wat,  I  thought  ye  wad  ha'e  married  me 
afore  this  time  and  that  would  ha'e  squared  accounts. 
John  Nicoll!  it  is  your  own  fault  that  I  ha'e  not  paid 
ye,  as  despair  has  blunted  the  edge  of  my  industry." 


t 

0 


68 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


ii 


!■!' 


HE  TOOK  SEVERAL  CHEERERS. 

I  am  constrained  to  sav  that  Robert  Stenhouse  knew 
more  about  floating,  drawing,  and  swinging  bridges 
than  any  other  stone  mason  that  I  ever  conversed  with. 
Some  years  ago  he  built  a  bridge  above  Mount  Clemens, 
and  after  receiving  his  payment  he  came  to  Detroit  and 
took  several  cheerers.  When  night  came,  several  of  his 
friends,  with  the  help  of  two  or  three  policemen,  for  safe 
keeping,  placed  him  m  one  of  the  cells  of  Clinton  street 
jail.  He  fell  sound  asleep,  and  when  he  awoke  he 
looked  up  and  saw  the  arch  of  his  cell,  and  then  he 
looked  down  and  saw  the  ground.  With  the  hair  of 
his  head  rising  up  like  the  fur  on  a  fretful  cat's  back,  he 
roared  out,  "Where  can  I  be  ?  Mercy  me!  under  a 
bridge  and  no  water."  He  looked  around  and  bemoaned 
himself,  and  then  in  his  agony  he  ruefully  exclaimed: 

"  O!  solitude!  where  are  thy  charms 
That  sages  have  s^en  in  thy  face? 

Better  dwell  in  the  midst  of  alarms 
Than  reign  in  this  horrible  place." 


THE  WHISTLE  BLEW. 

Lately  I  stood  upon  the  dock  at  Port  Huron  waiting 
for  the  "  Greyhound  "  to  take  me  down  to  Detroit.  I 
stood  in  a  state  of  absent  mindedness,  as  my  thoughts, 
for  some  reason  or  another,  had  gone  wool-gathering. 
These  wandering  thoughts,  however,  soon  answered  to 
the  bridle  when  I  saw  approaching  me  a  beautiful  pair 
of  lovers.  The  maiden  reminded  me  of  Milton's  lines, 
for  in  her  I  surely  observed  a 

"  Beauty  which,  either  waking  or  asleep,  shot  forth  peculiar 
graces." 

These  lovers  came  and  stood  in  ear-shot  of  me,  and 

the  following  conversation  took  place: 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


69 


She — "  Oh,  William,  the  very  thoughts  of  parting 
makes  me  so  sad  and  sorrowful  that  I  am  afraid  my 
heart  will  break  with  grief  this  very  day." 

He — "  Oh,  Rosy,  Rosy,  my  dear,  and  my  beloved, 
take  comfort  and  live  in  the  hope  that  I  will  soon  return 
and  clasp  you  in  my  fond  embrace." 

She — "  Oh,  William,  William,  when  you  are  away  be 
sure  and  do  not  dream  about  me."  He  mournfully  shook 
his  head  and  then  he  said,  "  Oh,  Rosy,  Rosy,  I  doubt  I 
cannot  help  myself."  The  whistle  bk'v,  and  the  tender 
word  and  the  heartfelt  wish  were  in  order.  The  fond 
lover  stood  on  the  bow  of  the  boat,  and  he  was  so 
engaged  in  sending  kisses  back  to  Rosy  that  he  had  not 
even  time  to  brush  off  a  fly  that  had  settled  on  the 
bridge  of  his  nose. 


STONEMASONS  WANTED. 

About  the  time  that  George  IV.  visited  Scotland 
and  when  Sir  Walter  Scott  was  in  his  glory,  great  build- 
ing enterprises  prevailed  in  Edinburgh.  Landed  proprie- 
tors, and  moneyed  men  vied  witli  each  other  to  build  up 
what  is  now  called  the  "  New  Town."  As  a  result,  the 
masons  received  exorbitant  wages,  and  to  keep  them  in 
good  humor  the  contractors  would  drive  them  to  and 
from  their  work  in  hacknev  coaches.  At  this  time 
there  resided  at  No.  15  Bread  street  a  Mrs.  Mclntvre, 
a  widow,  but  who  had  a  daughter  called  Grace,  and 
who  was  as  fair  as  a  flower  and  beyond  the  power  of 
my  pen  to  describe.  Now  Grace  was  much  beloved  by 
a  journeyman  stonemason,  but  by  this  time  the  "  New 
Town"  was  built  up,  and  many  masons  were  reduced  to 
want  and  obliged  to  sell  or  pawn  their  very  chisels  and 
mells.     Round  the   corner   from   Bread   street   Bauldy 


0 


70 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


u 


I 
!  > 


Brisbane  was  the  proprietor  of  a  grocer's  shop,  and  to 
show  he  was  enterprising  and  no  slouch,  he  kept  on 
hand  a  stock  of  "  Dublin  porter,"  "  Alloa  ale "  and 
"  Prestonpan's  table  beer,"  which  he  sold  in  bottles. 
Now  Bauldy  wanted  a  wife  and  he  fell  head  over  heels 
in  love  with  Grace  Mclntyre,  but  the  journeyman  stone- 
mason stood  many  degrees  higher  in  her  estimation.  To 
counteract  this  Bauldy  caused  to  be  inserted  in  the 
Edinburgh  Evening  Courier,  the  following  : 

"A  number  of  stone  masons 
Wanted  immediately  at 
No.  15  Bread  street." 

By  4  o'clock  next  morning  hundreds  of  them  rang 

Mrs.  Mclntyre's  bell.     It  took  Grace  and  her  mother 

about  all  their  time  to  answer  the  bell.     About  2  o'clock 

p.  ra.    Grace   was   perfectly  exhausted,   and   she   sank 

down  on  a  chair,  and  between  breaths  said:     "  Mither, 

thy're  a'  oot  o'  wark  thegether.     I  think  I  had  better 

tak'  Bauldy."  

MY  JENNIE. 

O,  Jennie,  the  clouds  on  the  hill-tops  are  nearing, 
And  the  lengthening  shadows  are  now  disappearing, 
On  the  wings  of  the  golden  the  gloaming  comes  lightly, 
And  the  love-star  of  evening  is  now  shining  brightly. 

The  primrose  and  daisy  have  hidden  their  blushes, 
And  the  song  birds  are  silent  among  the  green  bushes, 
The  queen  of  the  night  to  her  throne  is  advancing. 
And  her  beams  on  the  river  in  beauty  are  dancing. 

O,  say  to  me,  dearjs  ,  O.  say  you  are  willing 
To  go  by  the  pathway  that  leads  to  my  dwelling, 
O,  Jennie,  my  darling.  O,  do  not  delay, 
For  the  finger  of  truth  is  now  pointing  the  way. 

My  Jennie,  methinks  I  hear  whisperings  above  me 
That  tell  me  forever,  my  dearest,  to  love  thee, 
O,  come,  Jennie,  come,  O,  say  you  are  willing. 
To  reign  in  my  heart,  and  be  queen  of  my  dwelling. 


SKETCHES    AXD    ANECDOTES. 


71 


[   1^:1 


HIS  AGE. 

Robbie  Hastie  resided  near  the  foot  o'  the  Lammer- 
law  and  was  a  celebrated  poacher.  He  was  a  sure  shot, 
and  when  he  carried  off  his'game  he  had  a  peculiar  tal- 
ent in  eluding  water-bailiffs,  game-keepers  and  others  in 
authority.  At  length  he  was  caught  hard  and  fast  and 
taken  before  a  magistrate.  Robbie  was  then  badgered 
with  a  number  of  needless  questions,  and  on  being  asked 
how  auld  he  was,  he  got  nettled  and  replied:  "  Losh 
sake  me,  man,  what  do  ye  want  to  ken  that  for  ?  Ma 
mither  kens  that  better  than  I  do  masel':  but  bv  fire  and 
flint,  I  may  e'en  tell  ye,  if  that  Avill  gie  ye  ony  satisfac- 
tion, that  I  am  twa  hunder  and  ten  days  aulder  than 
ma  teeth." 


ILL  TAKE  A  LOOK  AT  HIM. 

James  Kirkhop  came  from  one  of  the  moorland  dis- 
tricts of  Scotland  where  there  are  more  peesweeps  and 
plovers  than  post-runners  or  steam  engines.  Shortly 
after  he  landed  he  became  infatuated  with  Isabella  (tv.'i- 
ham,  who  is  related  to  me  on  the  maternal  side.  When 
their  love  for  one  another  came  up  to  the  boiling  l;eat, 
I  took  much  pleasure  in  giving  her  away  to  him,  with 
many  kind  remarks,  and  for  which,  under  the  eircnni- 
stances,  being  so  drowned  in  love,  they  appeared  to  pay 
no  attention  thereunto.  About  a  week  after  their  wed- 
lock Isabella  said,  "  James,  my  dear,  I  would  like  if  ye 
Wild  gang  round  to  Campbell,  the  photographer,  who  is 
one  of  mvoldest  admirers,  and  if  he  disna  strike  ve  fair 
the  first  time  he  will  strike  ye  over  again,"  Quoth 
James:  "Isabella,  my  dear,  I  ha'ena  been  lang  here, 
and  I  am  imacquainted  wi'  the  manners  and  customs  (,' 
the  country,  and  I  dinna  want  to  begin  lighting  already 


i       I 


0 

/I 


m 


72 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


5 


.1 


i' 


wi'  ony  o'  your  devilish  photographers.  Yet,  if  ye  want 
me  to  gang,  I'll  gang  and  tak'  a  look  at  him,  and  11  I 
think  I  can  fight  him  I'll  fight  him,  and  if  I  think  I 
canna  tight  him  I'll  tak'  to  my  heels  and  rin  awa." 

'  ^  ROBERT  TANNAHILL. 

[Inscribed  to  M.  Carun,  Esq.,  Port  Huron.] 

Poor  Tannahill,  thou  sweetest  bard 

That  e'er  wove  words  together, 
Thy  songs  are  like  the  pearly  dew 

That  kiss  the  blooming  heather. 
When  gloomy  winter  tied  awa, 

And  spring  danced  in  with  glee, 
What  rapture  tilled  thy  heart  amang 

The  woods  o'  Craigie-lea. 

Ye  sang  of  Scotland's  hills  and  dales, 

The  stream,  the  feathered  throng. 
Nature  instinctive  taught  thy  lips 

The  majesty  of  song! 
High  on  the  tree  the  blackbird  sings, 

Sweet  is  its  melting  strain. 
It  dies  away,  but  never  dies 

Your  "Jessie  o'  Dunblane!" 

Fear  dogged  thy  steps,  grief  bowed  thee  down. 

Thy  cheek  grew  pale  and  wan, 
Thy  harp  lay  dead,  ye  stood  alone, 

A  broken-hearted  man. 
Poor  Tannahill!  how  sad  thy  fate, 

Man  mourns  thy  doleful  end, 
But  in  thy  life  no  one  hold  out 

To  thee  a  helping  hand! 

The  sun  gaed  doon  'maug  murky  clouds. 

Gloom  overspread  the  sky. 
Out  in  the  darksome  lull  of  night 

Ye  groped  your  way— to  die. 
Ah,  woe  is  me!  they  found  the  bard 

Down  in  the  dank,  cold  river; 
His  song  was  sung,  his  heart  was  still. 

Closed  were  his  lips  forever! 


m . 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


73 


A  LEGEND  O'  SELKIUK. 

[Inscribed  to  t)ie  Hon.  Wm.  Adair,  Uctruit  | 

A  Souter  o'  Selkirk  sat  in  his  shop 

Asewing  at  a  shoe, 
And  the  sun  gaed  doon  wi'  an  awesome  scowl, 

And  the  wind  a  hurricane  blew. 

And  the  Souter  plyed  awa  at  his  wark, 

Plash,  plash  dang  doon  the  rain. 
And  the  thunder  roared  and  the  lightning  flash "d 

On  the  Souter's  window  pane. 

And  lie  sat  and  he  laughed  wi'  a  mockriff  laugh, 

For  he  had  nae  kith  or  kin, 
And  he  cared  no  ae  straw  for  the  folk  thereout, 

If  he  was  a'  richt  within. 

The  angry  winds  raved  'mang  the  hills, 

And  doon  through  glen  and  shaw  ; 
And  the  Souter  prayed  that  the  muckle  deil 

That  night  might  on  him  ca' . 

There  stood  on  the  floor  a  weird  auld  man, 

Wi'  a  face  as  wliite's  a  sheet. 
And  the  hair  o'  his  beard  hang  danglin'  doon 

The  length  o'  his  cloven  feet. 

And  his  lips  were  as  black  as  the  coom  o'  the  lum. 
And  his  mouth  was  as  dark  as  a  dungeon  ; 

When  the  queer  man  scowd'd  the  Souter'e  dog  howl'd, 
And  out  at  the  door  gaed  plungin'. 

And  the  Souter  yelled  and  he  gasped  for  breath, 

And  he  muttered  words  o'  prayer. 
As  the  weird  auld  man  ga'e  a  gruesome  grane, 

And  clankit  doon  on  a  chair. 

Then  the  Souter  cried,  "  Get  oot  o'  my  hoose, 

I  dinna  ken  hoo  ye  got  in, 
For  I  fastened  the  door  wi'  bolts  and  bars, 

And  a  great  big  iron  pin." 

Then  the  weird  auld  man  cried,  "  Haud  yere  tongue, 

I  .seek  nae  maut  or  meat ; 
Come  hither,  ye  selfish,  sordid  wretch, 

And  measure  my  twa  feet  ! " 


0 


!■■■ 


U 


\\ 


'  i 
■| 

I'll 


74 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


And  the  Souter  rose  and  measured  his  feet, 

Although  half  dead  vvi'  fricht  ; 
And  the  spectre  howled,  "  Ye  must  make  me  a  pair 

O'  shoon  by  the  morn's  nicht." 

The  Souter 's  e'en  rolled  'round  in  his  head, 

And  his  knees  tliey  gaed  knick-knock, 
As  the  spectre  vanished  oot  o'  his  sicht 

Like  a  pulf  o'  tobacco  smoke. 

On  the  very  next  nicht,  when  the  cuckoo-clock 

Had  coo'd  a  dozen  coos, 
The  spectre  stood  on  tlie  Souter's  S.00T, 

And  speired  for  his  pair  o'  shoes. 

As  the  Souter  raxed  ovver  the  new  made  shoon. 

The  spectre  giggled  wi'  glee. 
Then  rowed  them  up  wi"  a  hempen  rope. 

Syne  handed  o'er  the  fee. 

As  out  at  the  door  he  whippit  awa. 

The  Souter  followed  like  daft, 
And  he  saw  him  loup  tlie  kirk-yard  wa'. 

And  descend  in  a  new  made  graft. 

Then  ower  the  wa'  the  Souter  played  spring. 

And  stuck  his  awl  in  the  sod  ; 
Next  morning  lie  came  with  shovel  and  spade 

To  find  ♦he  spectre's  abode. 

And  he  howkit  door>,  and  he  howkit  doon, 

And  the  Souter  never  did  stop 
Till  he  saw  the  shoon  or.  a  coffin  lid, 

Tied  up  wi'  a  hempen  rope. 

And  he  grasped  the  shoon  wi'  a  greedy  hand, 

And  out  0'  the  graft  he  sprang  ; 
And  the  corbies  croak'd,  and  the  head-stanes  rockd, 

And  the  doors  0'  the  kirk  played  bang  ! 
And  the  Souter  ran  hame  wi'  the  spectre's  shoon, 

But  that  was  the  end  o'  him  ; 
For  the  spectre  that  nicht  whipt  him  aff  to  the  grave, 

And  tore  him  limb  frae  limb. 
Ho  I  Souters  0'  Selkirk,  be  wary  and  wise, 

Tins  tale  is  no  idle  conjecture  ; 
Beware  !  oh,  beware  !  and  ne'er  rifle  the  graft 

O'  a  waukriff  blood-thirsty  spectre. 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


76 


YOU  SHALL  HAVE  IT. 

The  foundations  o'  a  speedy  marriage  between 
Stephen  Macbeth  and  Miss  Elizabeth  Duff  were  begin- 
ning to  totter  and  give  way,  and  all  for  lack  o'  a  kirk. 
Now  Stephen  was  a  probationer,  and  could  preach  a 
most  excellent  sermon  wi'  miickle  pith  and  unction,  but 
he  could  find  no  patron  to  place  him  into  an  empty 
pulpit.  Under  these  circumstances,  a  union  between 
this  devoted  couple  was  entirely  out  o'  the  question,  as 
nothing  but  gaunt,  wolfish  want  would  be  staring 
them  in  the  eye.  Lockermacus  Kirk  became  vacant,  and 
the  patron  o'  which  was  as  cold  blooded  as  a  fossil- 
fish  in  the  old  red  sandstone  formation,  and,  strange  to 
say,  he  measured  people's  l)rains  by  the  shoes  they  wore 
upon  their  feet.  Miss  Duff  knew  this.  One  night  she 
says:  "  Stephen,  my  dear,  go  order  a  big  pair  o'  shoes," 
which  he  did,  and  when  they  were  finished  what  wi' 
tackets,  heel-plates  and  tae-plates,  when  cast  upon  the 
scales  they  weighed  exactly  twelve  pounds,  sax  ounces 
avoirdupois.  With  these  shoes  upon  his  feet  he  waited 
on  the  patron  and  told  him  his  errand. 

"  What,"  cried  he,  "  I  cannot  give  you  the  kirk;  you 
have  neither  capacity  nor  understanding."     Wi'  this  he 
looked  at  Stephen's  shoes.     He  was  struck  wi'  astonish- 
ment.    He  raised  his  eyes;  he  grasped  him  by  the  hand 
and  said:     "The  kirk  is  yours." 


A  FIXE  FEAST. 

When  lately  in  Sarnia,  Ont.,  I  paid  a  visit  to  my 
friend,  Mr.  Foulds,  baker  by  trade,  and  who  was  born 
in  Fifeshire,  Scotland,  about  the  beginning  of  the  pres- 
ent century.  In  the  middle  of  the  bake-house  floor  we 
began  an  animated  discussion  regarding  free  trade,  pro- 


0 


7« 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


n 


tection,  producers  and  oorisiiiners,  and  whether  capital 
or  labor  is  king.  In  the  heat  of  the  argument  he  rushed 
to  the  oven,  pulled  the  door  open  and  sent  into  it  a  long 
wooden  shovel  and  brought  out  a  pan  full  of  cakes 
burnt  as  black  as  a  thunder  cloud.  Mis  eyes  flashed 
fire,  his  bosom  heaved  with  emotion,  he  flung  the  shovel 
down  on  the  floor,  he  wrung  his  hands  like  one  standing 
on  the  very  brink  of  despair,  and  then  he  cried  "  Jerusa- 
lem!" After  the  pronunciation  of  this  word  he  turned 
to  one  of  his  boys  and  said:  "Tam,  ye  ass  that  ye  are, 
rin  oot  and  tell  the  swine  that  they'll  soon  ha'e  a  fine 
feast." 


IMPORTED  AND  EXPORTED. 

There  are  few  folk  in  this  world  that  dinna  lide  on 
some  kind  o'  a  hobbv-horse.  Peter  Porteous  had  one,  I 
ha'e  heard  say.  Peter  was  a  «iuarry-man,  and  he  got  a 
wee  thought  crackit  in  the  head  wi'  porin'  ower  books 
on  political  economy.  Ae  day  Peter  and  his  wife  Peggy, 
although  they  had  been  laug  buckled  together,  ha<l  a 
most  unraercif  u'  outcast,  and  a  great  cannonade  o'  words 
ensued.  Amang  ither  things  Peggy  said,  "  Ye  misera- 
ble misguided  mortal  that  ye  are,  I  am  strongly  tempted 
to  throw  '  Smith's  Wealth  o'  Nations '  on  the  back  o'  the 
fire."  "  Peggy,"  quo'  Peter,  "  when  ye  cam'  into  ma 
house,  ye  was  imported,  duty  free,  but  I  wish  frae  the 
bottom  o'  ma  heart  ye  had  been  exported  in  bond  to  the 
inaist  unproductive  and  barren  regions  o'  the  earth.'* 
'*  Peter  !  Peter  !  I'll  gang  yet,"  quo'  Peggy,  "  and  as 
ye  ha'e  the  Wealth  o'  Nations  in  your  possession,  gang 
oot  and  buy  me  a  horse,  and  my  certy,  I'll  soon  loup  on, 
and  I'll  gi'e  the  bridal  reins  a  shake  and  yf'll  never  see 


me  mair 


?j 


li't 


SKETCH EB    AND    ANKCDOTKft. 


11 


WIDOW  NAILOR. 

flnacrlbf'd  to  Uobt.  J.  Hi.ack,  Esq  ,  Dpfroit.l 

An  imld  wife  lived  ainang  the  hillh, 

And  sIh;  was  fell  and  piucy  ; 
'Tlioujrli  bancs  wore  stilT,  yet  she'd  a  heart 

As  lightsome  as  a  lassie. 
Twa  years  hy-gane  her  ain  guidnmn 

Grim  death  awa  had  carried, 
Now  she'd  a  thought  that  she  again 
Would  venture  to  get  married. 

For  men  wha  lived  amang  the  hills 

She  didna'  care  a  hodle, 
So  she's  awa  to  Edinburgh 

As  fast  as  she  can  toddle. 
As  lang  the  road  she  bent  lu.-r  steps, 

A  something  whispered  till  her — 
Keep  up  your  lieart  and  .soon  ye'll  get 

A  man  wi'  lots  o'  siller. 

She  soon  cro.ssed  over  the;  North  bridge, 

And  when  in  the  Lawnmarkit, 
She  climbed  sa.v  pair  o'  weary  .stairs, 

And  at  the  door  she  liarkit 
She  ga'e  a  rap,  axid  at  the  rap 

Quick  answered  Widow  Taylor, 
Wha  cried,  '•  Pear  me,  preserve  us  a". 

How  are  ye,  Mrs.  Nailor  ? 

"  Give  me  your  hand,  come  your  ways  ben, 

jV[y,  my,  how  have  ye  been  ? 
My  certy  !  but  a  sight  o'  you 

Is  guid  for  my  sair  e'en. 
Guid  guide  us  a'  this  unkent  ca' 

Has  set  me  fair  a-jce, 
Throw  off  your  things,  now  si^  ye  doon. 

And  soon  I'll  mask  the  tea. 

"  And  how's  the  folk  amang  the  hills, 
And  how's  the  lambs  and  ewes  ? " 

And  then  the  twasome  ower  their  cups 
Soon  dished  up  a'  the  news, 


0 


19 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


J 


II 


s  1^ 
•  I 


Quo'  Mrs.  Niiilor,  "  Mrs.  Taylr)r, 

Ye  noedna'  think  I  banter, 
Again  I'm  on  tlie  widow's  list, 

Again  I  am  a  wanter," 

"  And  wliat  for  no' "  tlie  other  cried, 

Tlmt  wliite-cap  disna'  fit  ye, 
There's  plenty  men  that  I  e'en  ken 

Would  be  rale  glad  to  get  ye  ;  ' 
1  ken  a  butcher  in  the  Port, 

His  name  is  Geordie  Reid  ; 
He's  just  the  very  man  to  strike 

The  nail  upon  your  head." 

The  tea-things  now  are  put  away, 

And  as  they  drank  their  toddy 
They  laid  their  projects  and  their  plans 

To  catch  the  butclier  body. 
At  length  the  widow  cried,  "  Hech,  me. 

The  toddy's  ta'en  my  head, 
I  trow  I'll  e'en  gang  to  my  bed, 

And  dream  o'  Geordie  Heid." 

Quo'  Mistress  Taylor.  "  Come  your  ways, 

There's  twa  beds — take  the  best, 
And  there's  a  night-cap,  put  it  on 

And  take  a  guid  night's  rest." 
She  sleeped,  the  Tron  bell  tolled,  she  woke. 

Her  wits  were  on  the  rack. 
With  fearful  horror,  Oh  !  she  felt 

A  paw  upon  her  back. 

She  gave  a  wild,  terrific  kick, 

She  screamed,  "  Oh,  mercy,  mother  !" 
When  out  her  bed  a  something  sprang 

And  landed  in  the  other. 
With  agony  her  bosom  heav'd. 

She  could  not  rest  in  peace. 
She  raised  the  window  and  she  yell'd, 

"  The  devil's  here  !    Police  ! " 

Then  rushed  the  matron  and  the  maid, 

Up  stairs  the  police  sped  ; 
They  saw  the  widow,  pale  as  death,. 

Stand  pointing  to  the  bed. 


8KKTCIIKS    AND    ANIX'DOTES. 


ro 


They  turned  their  lights  upon  the  bed, 

Tliey  raised  ii  hjud  \m\on, 
When  one  cried  out,  "  By  u'  that's  guid, 

There's  Woinl)el]s'  kangaroo. 

"  How  it's  broke  loose,  how  it's  got  here 

Is  more  tlian  I  can  say." 
Quo'  Widow  Xailor.  "  Kaitli,  I  wish 

I  saw  tlie  liglit  o'  day  ; 
It'fi  just  a  judgment  sent  (jn  me, 

I'm  sure  I  was  demented  ; 
I'll  hurry  hame  to  our  ain  liills, 

And  live  and  die  contented." 


BEFORE  SHE  BEGAN.  ' 

Bettv  BalHnLrall  live-l  in  a  cot  house  a'  her  lane. 
Her  guidraan  was  dead  and  lior  off-spring  were  a'  awa 
and  doin'  for  theirsel's.  O'  nigl.ts  the  bits  o'  neighbor 
bairns  were  in  the  habit  o'  gatlierin'  round  her  fireside, 
and  she  wad  entertain  them  wi'  stories  suitable  to  their 
capacities.  Ae  night  some  o'  them  paid  her  a  visit,  and 
she  said:  "Ma  bonnie  bairns,  I  dinna  want  to  see  ony 
o'  ye  this  blessed  night,  for  ma  teeth  are  just  loupin' 
like  troots,  menents  and  bagwames  in  a  pool.  I  maun 
e'en  gang  and  hand  raa  face  to  the  fire,  as  sair  teeth, 
like  cats  and  beggars,  are  unco  fond  o'  the  heat.  But 
afore  ye  gang  I  will  e'en  tell  ye  what  I  am  gaun  to  do. 
I  am  gaun  to  mak'  a  poultice  to  place  on  ma  cheek,  and 
then  I  am  gaun  to  mak'  a  bowl  o'  gruel,  and  brew  a 
drap  o'  toddy,  and  then  I  am  gaun  to  wash  a  sark  or 
twa  and  hang  them  on  the  claes  rope,  and  after  that  I 
will  bathe  baith  ma  feet  and  pare  a  corn  on  ma  little  tae, 
and  then  I  will  read  a  chapter  oot  o'  the  *  Life  o'  Sir 
William  Wallace,'  the  hero  o'  Scotland,  and  then  I  will 
jump  into  bed.  Gang  hame,  bairns,  gang  hame,  afore 
I  begin." 


0 


\:    \ 


80 


SKKTCHES    AND    AN'EODOTKS. 


■\i 


p    ( 


'(' 


THE  CHURCH  BELL. 

One  flay  old  Xannie  Mosorip  went  to  Dun.se,  a  dis- 
tance of  seven  mile.s.  She  met  a  number  of  her  friends, 
and  as  whiskey  tigiitens  the  bands  o'  friendship,  she 
drank  considerable,  and  on  the  iianio-stretcii  she  got 
be-nigh  ted  and  lost  h«;rser.  Meanwhile  her  friends  got 
perplexed  and  alarmed,  and  sought  her  high  and  low, 
Amang  the  hills  thev  roared  "  Xannie!  Nannie!  Where 
are  ye!"  But  the  words  of  woe  only  died  awa'  in  the 
distance.  About  the  dark  hour  o'  midr'ght  auld  Willy 
Anderson,  the  beadle,  rang  the  kirk-bell,  and  another 
general  search  took  place.  At  length  they  discovered 
Nannie  on  the  ^op  o'  tlie  Shealing  Hill,  sittiri'  like  a 
crow  in  the  mist.  SIk*  looked  up  wi'  amazement  when  she 
saw  the  auld  and  the  young  gathered  around  her,  and 
the  first  words  she  uttered  wei-e:  "I  heard  the  kirk- 
bell  jow,  jowin'.     Is  the  kirk  gaun  in?" 


AGAIX.vr  REVOLUTIONS. 

Duncan  Broadfoot  was  a  studious  shoemaker,  and 
much  addicted  to  reading  works  on  astronomy.  Ae  day 
he  got  into  a  heated  argument  wi'  Saunders  Veiteh 
regarding  the  merits  and  demerits  o'  the  French  revolu- 
tion. Duncan  stood  erect.  His  eves  tlashed,  and  ne 
placed  the  fore-finger  of  his  right  hand  in  the  palm  of 
his  left,  and  thus  spoke:  "  Xoo,  Saun<lers,  if  I  was  an 
inhabitant  o'  ane  o'  the  maist  important  planets,  and  if 
ony  o'  the  folk  thereon  started  a  revolution,  and  cam' 
to  me  and  advised  me  to  tak'  up  the  sword,  gun  or 
Lochaber  ax  as  tiie  case  miglit  be,  I  wad  just  eye  them 
wi'  scorn,  and  most  <lignified  and  unmistakable  disdain, 
and  tell  them  to  gang  to  the  deevil  wi'  baith  them  and 
their  revolutions." 


i.   H:,! 


SKETCHES    ANI>    AXECDOTES. 


.'^l 


IIIS  SIGN-ROARD. 

It  will  be  in  the  recollection  of  those  who  are  con- 
versant with  history  that  in  December,  IV 75,  Gen. 
PIontL'omerv  exclaimed  to  his  men,  when  about  to 
attack  Quebec  :  "  Soldiers  !  Men  of  New  York,  you 
will  not  fear  co  follow  where  your  general  leads." 
Robert  Btirns,  the  Scottish  poet,  in  one  of  his  poems 
thus  alludes  to  this  unfortunate  campaign  : 

"  Then  through  the  hikes  Montgomery  takes. 

I  wat  he  Wiisna'  slaw,  man, 
Down  Lourie's  burn  lie  took  a  turn, 

At  Carlf^ton  did  ca',  mun. 
But  yet  wliat  reck  when  at  Quebec, 

Montgomery-like  did  fa',  man, 
Wi'  sword  in  hand  afore  his  band. 

Amang  his  en'nnes  a'  man." 

Some  time  ago  Jan\es  Lauderdale  went  to  (Quebec, 
and  he  f(»regathered  wi'  John  Sutherland,  another 
Scotchman,  wha  undertook  to  sliow  him  the  sights. 
*'  There's  the  place,"  <juo'  Jolin,  ''  where  the  brave  iMont- 
gomery  fell,  and  there's  his  signd)oard  er"cted  to  com- 
memorate his  memory.'"  'What  business  was  he  in?" 
quo'  James.  "  Business  1  "  .juo'  John,  "  lie  was  in  no 
btisiness — he  cam'  at  the  \s  rang  time  o'  the  year  to  do 
l)usitiess.'" 


HES  NOBODY. 

A  fuidwife  went  into  a  bookselI(U''s  shoj)  ae  day  an<l 
she  said  to  the  bookman:  "•  lla'e  ye  ony  schule  bo')ks  y" 
"Yes,  mem,"  «(Uo'  he,  "I  ha'e  got  cartloads  o'  them; 
what  kind  o' a  anc  do  ye  want?"  "I  want,"  (]im)'  she, 
"  Sill's  Grammar."  "  Yc're  Scotch,"  quo'  he.  "  Yes," 
quo'  she.  "  And  is  your  guitbnan  SiH)tch?"  "  Xa," 
quo'  she.     "  He's  naebody;  he's  an  Eiiglishman." 


c 

0 


82 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


J 


SWEETEST  FLOWER. 

Duncan  Gilbertson,  an  auld  parishioner,  was  workin* 
awa  in  his  garden  upon  a  bonnie  mornin'  iti  tlie  month  o' 
May.  The  birds  were  blithely  singin'  amang  the  green 
leaves,  and  the  Howers  were  blushing,  and  the  sunlight 
was  dancing  tip-toe  amang  the  hills.  Duncan  folt  the 
benign  influences,  and  he  says  to  himsel':  "This  is  a 
braw  world,  I  wonder  if  I  will  ever  see  a  V>rawer  world 
than  this."  As  he  was  thus  ruminating,  up  cam'  young 
Sandy  Walkingshaw  wi'  his  Sunday  claes  on — a  clean 
sark  and  his  infant  beard  newly  shaven.  After  some 
preliminary  remarks,  Sandy  says  :  "  Mr  Gilbertson,  ye 
are  a  grand  gardener,  wlmt  fine  roses  and  flowers  ye  ha'e 
round  about  ye,  but  ye  ha'e  ane  in  your  house  bonnier 
and  sweeter  than  them  a',  and  wi'  a'  ma  heart  I  wad  like 
to  tak'  her  awa."  "  Weel,"'  says  Duncan,  "Sandy,  ma 
man,  it  is  flt  to  rive  the  heart  oot  o'  me  to  ]>art  wi'  my 
ain  bonnie  bairn,  w]ia'>  heart  is  as  pure  as  the  dew-drop 
that  hangs  upon  the  budding  rose,  but  ye  ha'e  ma  con- 
sent, and  ma  guid  will."  As  he  thus  spoke,  the  tear 
drop  rose  and  glistened  on  his  cheek,  and  he  took  Sanily 
by  the  hand  and  he  said  :  "And,  oh,  may  heaven  Ijliss 
ye  baith." 

IGNOR.\XCE  IS  BLISS. 

Ae  day,  at  the  dyke-side,  Rob  Iluddleston  and  auld 
Taramie  Rathbone,  after  exchanging  snuff-boxes,  got 
into  a  great  wrangle  regarding  some  theological  points 
o'  faith.  Quo'  Rob:  "Stop,  ye  ha'e  just  said  enough. 
I  dinna  want  to  liear  ony  mair  o'  yere  balderdash.  Ye 
are  naething  mair  or  less  tlian  a  speakin'  fool  and  a 
l>lasted  idiot."  "I  ken  that,"  (juo'  Tammie,  "but  ye 
are  a  blasted  idiot,  but  yere  brains  are  sae  scant  that  ye 
remain  iirnorant  o'  the  fact." 


I 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


83 


A  NICHT  Wr  ROBIN. 

[Inscribed  to  J.  B.  Wilson,  Esq.,  Detroit.] 

"The  following  verses,  entitled  "A  Nieht  \vi"  Robin,"  written  by  Mr.  A. 
Wanlksb,  were  recited  by  his  daughter.  Miss  Jank  Wanlkss.  The  verses, 
were  admirably  rendered,  and  were  received  with  great  applause." 

—Detroit  Free  Press. 

Ye  lads  and  bonnie  lusses  braw 
This  liight  we've  met  in  Merrill  ha' 
To  knock  care's  head  agahist  the  wa', 
And  ha'e  ii  crack  wi'  Robin. 

There  Burns  has  come — the  kind  and  true 
As  ever  wore  the  bonnet  blue; 
Where  is  the  man  that  wadna'  lo'e. 
And  grasp  the  hand  o'  Robin  ? 

Here's  Jock,  and  Will,  and  Tarn,  and  Pate, 
And  bonnie  Peg,  and  aunty  Kate, 
Frae  Shirramoor's  come  up  the  gate. 
To  sup  kail-brose  wi'  Robin. 

And  Tarn  O'ShanLer  will  be  here — 
He's  ju.st  loup'd  utr  his  auld  grey  mere. 
And  Cutty  Sark  will  soon  appear 
To  ha'e  a  dance  wi'  Robin! 

There's  Willie  Wastle — honest  bodie — 
Has  crossed  the  moor  frae  Linkum-doddic; 
And  Tinkler  Maggie  on  her  cuddy 
Has  come  to  speir  for  Robin  I 

Douf  Duncan  Grey's  got  done  wi'  wooin' 
Wi'  sighs,  wi'  billin'  and  wi'  cooin', 
And  Meg — he's  up  the  entry  pu'in' 
To  introduce  to  Robin. 

And  auld  Rob  Morris  o'  the  Glen, 
Although  he  is  three  score  and  ten, 
Puir  bodie,  there  he's  hirplin'  ben 
To  say  "guid  e'en"  to  Rol)in. 

Guid  faith  I  herc'.s  Ro))in's  bonnie  .lean, 
Ac  trig  a  lass  as  e'er  was  see.n. 
She's  just  oome  diincin'  'cross  the  green 
To  get  a  kiss  frae  Robin. 


0 


84 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


m 


i 


n. 


And  Nannie  she's  no  far  awa — 
Sae  soon's  she  hears  tlie  bagpipes  blaw 
She'll  just  come  t-rippiu'  up  the  shaw. 
To  dance  a  reel  wi'  Robin. 

There's  Mary  in  her  Highland  dress, 
As  blythesome  and  as  sweet  a  lass, 
As  e'er  keek'd  in  a  looking  glass — 
Her  idol-king  is  Robin. 

Spouse  Nancy  has  got  done  wi'  strife, 
She's  now  a  gash  contented  wife, 
She's  brought  a  cheese  and  glamed  a  knife 
To  cut  a  wang  to  Robin. 

Nance  Tinnock  has  hung  on  the  pat, 
And  Willie's  brew'd  a  j)eck  o"  maut, 
And  Allan's  come  to  hu'i'  a  chat 

And  Irink  a  dram  wi'  Robin. 

Tarn  Sampson's  von  the  curling  game! 
This  night  upon  the  rink  of  fame. 
Like  Jehu  he  will  roar  the  name — 
The  deathless  name  o'  Robin  I 

Haith!  Robin  was  a  canty  chield. 
As  ever  up  Parnassus  spiel'd, 
The  jinglin'  bardies  a'  maun  yield 
And  homage  pay       Robin! 

He  struck  Dame  Nature's  varied  key, 
The  outcast  mousie  on  the  lea, 
The  birdies  wliistlin'  in  their  glee 
Were  kith  and  kin  to  Robin. 

Now  lads  and  lasses  ane  and  a' 

Sae  soon's  the  chairman  gie's  the  ca'. 

Get  up  and  gi'  a  loud  huzza — 

A  rousin'  cheer  for  Robin! 


HAVE  YE  ONY  BAWBEES  ? 

Andrew  Crawford  was  a  peripatetic  book-binder, 
and  to  me  well  known  in  mv  apprenticeship  years.  He 
was  as  thoughtless  and  restless  a  mortal  as  could  be 
found  in  the  length  and  breadth  o'  the  land.     In  a  word, 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


85 


he  wad  appear  and  as  suddenly  disappear,  and  where  to 
find  him,  if  anybody  took  the  pains,  would  be  as  difficult 
as  to  find  a  needle  on  the  moors  of  Culloden.  Ae  day 
he  appeared,  and  one  of  his  acquaintances  said  to  him  : 
"  Andrew,  mercy  rae,  is  that  you,  and  are  ye  sure  it  is 
you,  and  where  in  a'  the  warld  ha'e  ye  been  ?  " 

"  Been,"  quo'  Andrew,  '*  I  ha'e  been  in  London,  and  I 
wasna'  there  twa  days  till  I  fell  through  a  winday,  and 
guid  guide  us  a',  they  hauled  me  afore  a  big  monster  o' 
a  judge  that  wadna'  listen  to  either  sense  or  reason,  and 
the  upshot  was  that  the  old  shaggy  gray-headed  badger 
sent  me  to  prison  for  thirty  days.  Blast  his  picture,  by 
his  command  thev  lifted  me  on  to  the  treadmill,  and 
I  climbed  and  climbed  and  I  climbed,  but  wi'  a'  ma 
Scotch  perseverance  I  couldna'  get  a  glimpse  o'  our  ain 
heather  hills.  Noo,  I  am  on  the  verge  o'  startin'  for 
Glasgow,  and  as  I  am  like  a  fox  in  a  hurry  to  break 
cover,  I  wad  like  to  ken  if  ye  ha'e  ony  odd  bawbees, 
saxpences  or  shillin's  gaun  to  waste  aboot  the  bottom  o' 
yer    pockets'" 


0 


HOPE. 
« 
Auld  Nannie  Haldane  was  sittin'  on  her  door-stane 

ae  day,  and  by  her  side  sat  bonnie  Lizzie  Lindsay,  and 

she  said,  "Lizzie,  ma  bonnie  lamb,  y ;;  are  young  and  I 

am  auld.     Your  brow  is    whiter  than  the    snaw,    your 

cheek  is  like  the  red,  red  rose,  but  my  brow  is  furrovveil 

wi'  carej  and  my  cheek  is  like  the  withered  leaf  that 

flickers   and  fa's  to  the  cauldriff   groimd.     I  ha'e  e'en 

come  through  a  warld   o'  iroubk*.     Monie  is  the    time 

that  I  felt  sae  dooncast  as  if  nae  ray  o'  hope  remaine<l, 

but  there  aye  r'^m^a/vi  the  cloud  wi'  the  silver  lining 

and  the  blue  lift  ab«  i     " 


m 


«6 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


1^. 


SOMETHING  WORSE. 


Watty  Stobbie  lived  at  Blackrig,  a  lonely  house 
situated  in  the  Lanimermoor  hills.  Ae  nifjht  the  ele- 
ments  were  let  loose — the  lightning  flashed,  the  thunder 
rolled  and  the  wind  raved  and  howled  ainanjr  the  hills. 
While  this  was  taking  place  Watty  was  sittin'  at  his 
fireside,  and  his  wife  Jenny  was  sittin'  aside  him,  and 
notwithstanding  the  hyperborean  blast,  they  were  crack, 
crackin'  awa'  like  twa  pen  guns,  nnco'  couthie  and  con- 
tented wi'  ane  another.  Without  a  moment's  notice  a 
cat  made  a  sudden  spring  and  landed  on  Watty's  back. 
"Bliss  ma  sowl  and  body,"  roared  he.  "  Jenny!  Jenny! 
in  the  name  o'  a'  that's  guid,  what's  that?"  "It's  only 
the  cat,"  quo'  Jenny.  "  Blast  the  brute,"  quo'  Watty, 
"  what  a  gliff  I  did  get.  As  sure  as  the  breath  o'  life  is 
in  me  I  thought  it  was  something  warse  than  the  cat." 


.  i 


EATING  WORDS. 

Twa  gypsies — ane  a  tinker  ana  the  other  a  fortune 
teller — man  and  wife,  named  Geordie  and  Kirsten 
Baillie,  cam'  into  our  village  in  the  Lammernioors,  ae 
day,  and  pitched  their  tent  by  the  side  o'  the  bonnie 
burn  o'  Dve.  Next  mornin'  the  twa  ijot  into  a  broilingr 
passion,  and  Kirsten  said  something  tluit  cut  Geordie 
into  the  very  innermost  recesses  o'  his  heart.  Wi'  fury 
he  roared:  "Kirsten,  ye  base  black-hearted  randy  that 
ye  are,  I'll  mak'  ye  eat  your  words!"  "Me  eat  ma 
words,"  quo'  she,  "ye  may  wait  and  watch  for  that  for- 
ever and  a  day,  for,  by  the  sun  and  mune  and  stars 
aboon,  they  are  true  words  and  wholesome  words,  and 
the  best  thing  ye  can  do,  ye  black-hearted  ruffian  that 
ye  are,  is  to  digest  them  at  yere  leisure." 


W  .1 


SKETCHES    AVI)    ANECDOTES. 


THOMAS  CAMPBELL. 

The  writer  of  these  line.s  has  frecnu-ntly  seen  the 
liouse—Buccleug-h-pencl— where  Tiioinas  Campbell,  the 
author  of  "  Pleasures  of  Hope,"  resided  while  in  Edin- 
burgh. Shortly  after  the  publication  of  his  beautiful 
poem : 

"On  Linden  wlien  the  sun  was  low, 
And  bloodless  lay  the  untrodden  .snow. 
And  (lark  as  winter  was  the  How 

Of  Iser,  rollinii' rapidly." 

One  nigl.t  the  poet  was  seen  goinq;  home  bv  two 
Scotchmen,  in  a  somewhat  intoxicated  condition. 
"  Wha's  that  ?"  says  the  ane  to  the  ither.  "  Man,  do  ye 
no  ken  wha  that  is?  Im  sure  he's  kenspeckle  enou<,di. 
His  name  withoot  the  shadow  o'  a  douljt  is  Iser  Rollin* 
Rapidly." 


MY  BEAUTIFUL  TULIPS. 

Old  Dr.  MacFarlane  was  a  botanist  and  had  a  great 
knack  in  laying  the  white  swellin'  in  the  legs  and  arms 
o'  those  afflicted  wi'  that  disease.     In  the  fall  o'  the  year 
he  dug  up  a  lot  of  tulips  and  stowe«l  them  awa  in  the 
attic  of  his  house  with  the  view  of  preserving  them  dur- 
ing the  winter  months.    One  day  his  servant,  auld  Jenny 
Trotter,  roared  into  his  lug,  as  he  was  somewhat  deaf: 
"Doctor,  the   onions  are  a' dune!"     '"What  downrisrht 
nonsense,"  said  he,  "  let  us  both  go  up  immediately  to 
the  attic  and  investigate."     Ht  placed  his  spectacles  on 
the  bridge  of  his  nose,  and  the  twa  went  up.     He  looked 
round  and  cried,  "Jenny,  what  have  you  done  with  the 
roots  that  were  lying  in  that  corner  V"     To   which  (pies- 
tion  she  bawled  out,  *'  Ye  ha'e  eaten  them  a'."    '•  Mercy 
me!"  he  cried,  "my  beautiful  tulips!  by  lire  and  flood, 


0 


bh 


88 


SKETCH KS    A>fD    ANKCIK.TES. 


it  is  wonderful  to  mo  that  I  did  not  die  with  the  ixii><tri- 
tis  of  the  stoniadi.  My  furious  indignation  I  can 
scarcely  bridle.  I  feel  as  if  I  was  i)ossessed  with  ten 
thousand  furies.  Woman!  I  am  tempted  to  tear  every 
hair  of  your  head  out  from  their  very  roots,  but  even 
that  would  not  corrrect  your  iniquity  or  blot  out  your 
diabolical  transgressions!  Jenny  Trotter!  go  out  of  my 
sight,  ye  base-born  female  idiot  that  ye  are."  As  Jenny 
went  doon  the  stair  she  muttered  to  hersel',  '*  He  ca'd  me 
an  idiot,  the  auld  fool  that  he  is.  If  he  hadna'  possessed 
the  stomach  o'  a  horse  he  wadna'  be  alive  this  blessed 
day." 


NO  RELATION. 

John  Mack  had  a  very  glibe  tongue  in  his  head,  or, 
in  other  words,  he  had  a  tongue  that  could  clip  clouts. 
He  was  a  dealer  in  swine  and  other  four-footed  brutes. 
One  day  he  was  driving  a  sow  along  the  road  when  he 
met  tiie  Laird  o'  Witchester.  There  are  a  great  num- 
ber o'  degrees  o'  wit.  There  was  naething  droll  aboot 
the  Laird's  wit;  it  belonged  mair  or  less  to  the  sneerin' 
or  sarcastic  order.  Tlie  Laird  looked  at  the  sow  and 
then  said:  "John,  I  wad  like  to  ken  if  that  sow  is  a 
brither  o'  yours  y"  "  Na,"  replied  John,  "That  sow  is 
like  yoursel',  he  is  only  an  acquaintance." 


UPWARD  TEARS. 

The  downfall  of  Napolean  Bonaparte  gave  general 
satisfaction  in  Scotland,  and  even  the  news  of  his  death 
brought  no  sorrow.  When  Kirsty  Fraser  heard  of  the 
last  event  she  said:  "Is  that  so?  If  it  is  true  that  he 
is  dead  and  gone,  I  will  try  and  make  my  tears  play  tiy 
as  high  as  the  steeple." 


SKKTCIIES    AM)    AVKCDoTKS. 


89 


A  POOH  KxcrsE. 

In  Snrnia  toon  n  bakor  livi's, 

And  hv  is  naniwl  .James  Fonlds, 
And  iif.  at  orra  times.  Tm  taiild, 

Breaks  out  and  swears  and  scolds. 
He  lias  twa  lads  in  his  bake-shop, 

And  one  o"  them  is  spry, 
Though  he,  by  some  mishap  had  lost, 

In  early  life,  an  eye. 

The  other  lad  is  slow  and  dull, 

And  scarcely  worth  his  keep  ; 
And  like  the  slutrirard,  lie's  inclined 

To  slumber  and  to  sleep. 
Al  liis  bed-side  oft  Mr.  Foulds 

Is  sore  inclined  to  beat  him, 
And  though  he  aft  his  shovel  shook, 

He  never  did  maltreat  him. 

One  day  when  lire  was  in  his  eye. 

He  sternly  did  remark, 
"  Look  to  your  mate,  how  at  the  morn, 

He  springs  up  like  the  lark." 
The  sumph  replied,  "There's  naught  prevents 

Tarn  out  his  bed  to  whup, 
As  Tam,  poor  Tarn,  has  only  got 

One  eye  to  open  up." 


A  FEARFUL  STRUGGLE 

When  on  a  visit  to  Kent  Co.,  Ont.,  I  called  upon  an 
old  friend,  who  is  known  in  these  parts  by  the  name  of 
*'  Auld  Grannie  Macalaster."  I  found  her  sitting  by  the 
fireside,  wi'  a  pipe  in  her  teeth,  and  her  teeth  and  her 
pipe  were  as  black  as  sin.  We  had  a  most  charming 
crack  wi'  ane  another,  and  as  I  take  kindly  to  the  woed, 
her  and  I  socm  filled  the  house  fu'  -/  reek,  sae  much 
sae,  that  the  very  cats  and  dogs  were  instinctively 
compelled  to  rush  out  o'  doors  to  seek  a  mair  salubrious 

atmosphere.     In  the  course  of  conversation  she  informed 

7 


0 

/I 


f)(t 


SKK'rrilES    AND    AXKrnOTKS. 


Hi 


nu'  that  she  was  horn  lu'ar  "  Lomhjn's  honuio  woods  and 
braes,"  and  had  a  vivid  rc'(MjIlc'('tif)n  of  sccinof  Tannahill, 
jxrhaps  th(^  sweetest  lyri(^al  })oet  Scotland  lias  ever  j»ro- 
<liieed.  (^uo'  she:  "  I  einiL,n-ated  to  Canada  in  the  year 
1S32,  and  I  am  the  mitiier  o'  fourteen  V>airns  and  saxteen 
grandhalrns."  "(irannie,"  (jiio'  I,  "ye  are,  I  trow,  a 
great  and  a  grand  example  tu  yere  sex.  Hy  ma  faith, 
ye  ha'e  been  a  fruitful  vine;  but  losh  pity  me,  ye  maun 
ha'en  had  an  unco  job  to  bring  up  sac;  monie  bairns." 
*' A^'e,  aye,"  <luo'  she,  "'I  e'en  ha'e  had  a  fearfu'  strug- 
gle. When  the  l)its  o'  bairns  misbehaved,  monie  is  the 
time  I  could  ha'e  knockit  their  brains  oot  wi'  the  readiest 
thing  I  could  lay  ma  hands  on,  but  I  wad  tie  uj)  Mia 
temper,  and  I  wad  gang  and  till  my  pipe,  and  ram  it 
into  the  tire  wi'  a  vengeance,  and  then  I  wad  sit  (h)on 
and  draw  and  blaw  awa,  and  afore  I  was  half  ended 
I  wad  get  consolation,  and  the  bairns,  tuts,  they  wa<l  a' 
get  forgiveness." 


EVERYBODY'S   HERE. 

Annie  Proudfit  and  Robert  Ronaldson  were  twa 
sweethearts,  and  o'  nights  they  often  met  aneath  the 
trysting  tree  to  exchange  eternal  constancy  and  renew 
their  vows  o'  eternal  love.  But  not  only  this,  whan  the 
Sabbath  cam'  round  they  wad  gang  side  by  side  to  the 
kirk,  and  sit  in  the  same  pew,  and  he  wad  tak'  great 
pleasure  and  pride  in  looking  up  for  her  the  text  and 
the  Psalms  as  they  were  given  oiit  in  due  course.  A'e 
day  Annie  gaed  to  the  kirk  and  sat  doon,  l)ut  Robert 
was  na  there,  and  although  the  kirk  was  jammed  fu'  o' 
folk,  she  said  to  hersel':  "There's  naebodv  here."  At 
h-ngth  Robert  put  in  an  appearance,  and  then  she  said  : 
"'A'  body's  here." 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


91 


THE  BLACK  DOUGLAS. 

The  Douglas  wuh  ii  buron  bold, 

Grim  .scorn  was  in  his  v,yi' ; 
When  treason  rose  it  fell  or  tied 

When  "  Douglas  "  was  the  cry  I 

He  WHS  u  thorn  to  all  his  foes, 
To  friends  their  hedge  and  guide. 

I  trow  none  dared  to  scout  his  name 
O'er  all  the  country -side. 

In  peace  his  every  word  was  law, 

In  battle  doubly  strong  ; 
This  was  his  creed  -a  tyrant's  creed— 

That  might  could  do  no  wron,"-. 

On  Annan's  banks  a  mother  sat. 

A  child  was  on  her  knee, 
And  aye  she  sat  and  aye  she  sang 

Wi'  fond  maternal  glee. 

And  aye  the  o'erword  o'  her  .sang 

Was  "Baby  dinna  fret  thee, 
My  lammie  loo,  my  bonnie  doo, 

Black  Douglas  winna  get  thee  !  " 

She  looked  around  witli  fearful  awe. 
Her  eyes  reeled  wond'rous  wide. 

For  there  she  saw  the  baron  bold 
Stand  silent  by  her  side. 

She  clianged  her  tune,  and  sweetly  sang, 

"  My  babe,  if  I  neglect  thee, 
The  Douglas  bold,  the  Douglas  kind, 

For  ever  will  protect  tliec." 

The  Douglas  smiled,  he  tu(;k  the  child 

And  set  it  on  his  knee. 
He  sang,  "Sweet  babe,  hush!  woman's  wiles 

Aro  deeper  than  the  sea  '.  " 

Fair  was  the  child,  Ikjw  sweet,  how  fair 

Fair  as  the  lily  meek, 
He  sighed,  a  tear-drop  glistening  rose. 

And  trembled  on  his  cheek  '. 


c 

0 
in 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


1.0 


I.I 


'''  m 


112.5 


IM    |||||Z2 

'0   mil  2.0 


1.8 


1-25      1.4    ||.6 

■m 6"     

► 

v] 


«? 


/a 


/ 


f^' 


^W  ^e, 


*^ 


(T  ' 


^. 


'/ 


/A 


Photographic 

Sciences 
Corporation 


33  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14580 

(716)  872-4503 


.<"  c. 


.fi 


.% 


92 


SKETCHES   AND    ANECDOTES. 


hJ) 


I  .. 


And  then  he  said,  "  Oood  dame,  ho,  dame, 

Pray  let  me  kiss  your  daughter. 
And  ye  shall  have  a  grant  of  land 

By  bonnie  Annan  water."* 

*  The  Annan  water  runs  into  the  Solway  firth.    It  is  well  described  in  the 
old  Border  ballad : 

"Oh,  Annan  waters,  braid  and  deep." 

It  may  also  be  stated  that  all  powerful  was  the  Douglas  and  that  when 
he  rode  out  his  retinue  was  greater  than  the  then  Scottish  kinxs. 


hi 


if 


A  SAD  MISTAKE. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Hampshire  came  to  us  from  one  of  the 
midland  counties  of  England.  He,  however,  has  travel- 
ed through  the  Highlands  of  Scotland,  and  he  speaks 
of  that  country  and  the  people  in  glowing  terms.  Mrs. 
Hampshire,  however,  knows  nothing  about  that  country 
and  about  the  inhabitants  she  knows  much  less.  She 
makes  grand  Devonshire  dumplings,  but  I  will  not  men- 
tion the  name  of  the  street  whereon  she  resides;  neither 
will  I  give  the  number  of  the  house,  as  I  fear  too  many 
of  my  readers  would  be  flocking  thitherward  to  obtain 
samples  of  her  dumplings.  One  day  Mr.  Hampshire 
went  into  Robert  Black's  Scotch  picture  store,  and  he 
purchased  a  portrait  of  a  Highland  man, 

"With  his  philabeg  and  tartan  plaid. 
And  big  claymore  down  by  his  side." 

He  took  it  home,  and  with  joy  dancing  in  his  eyes,  he 
cried  out  to  Mrs.  Hampshire :  "  See,  see,  my  dear,  what 
I  have  got !  "  She  looked  at  it  and  she  said :  "  Charles, 
my  love,  is  that  an  angel  ? "  These  words  had  no 
sooner  fallen  from  her  lips  when  he  turned  round  upon 
her  abruptly  and  said:  "My  dear,  it  is  the  first  time 
on  record  that  a  Highland  man  has  been  mistaken  for  an 
angel  ! " 


SKBTCHBS    AN'D    AXKCDOTKS. 


03 


NOW  AND  THEN. 

When  I  was  in  my  youthful  years,  I  remember  that 
I  did  often  sit  upon  auld  Jenny  Chapman's  knee.  Jenny 
made  many  quaint  and  curious  remarks,  but  she  was 
like  many  a  one,  her  bark  was  worse  than  her  bite.  Ae 
day  she  said  to  my  grandmither,  "  I  ha'e  lost  a'  notion  o' 
the  men — they  are  just  a  pack  o'  domineering  deevils. 
When  I  was  a  lass  I  had  a  guid  and  kind  opinion  o* 
them,  but  now,  when  I  am  auld,  I  confess  that  I  detest 
them  frae  the  very  bottom  o'  my  heart.  There's  my 
guidman  Sandy,  he  is  just  a  poor,  silly  sumph.  He 
just  puts  me  in  mind  o'  an  auld  drake  spluttering  in  a 
pool.  At  times  he  will  neither  dance  or  baud  the 
«andle,  and  I  say  it,  that  shouldna'  say  it,  that  he  has 
nae  mair  mense  than  a  miller's  horse.  I  canna'  get  alang 
wi'  him  ava,  unless  I  allow  him  to  sing  his  ain  sang  on 
the  highest  rim  o'  the  rainbow.  Yet  take  him  wi'  a'  his 
short-comings  and  be-deevilments,  I  wadna'  like  to  hear 
onybody  say  onything  against  him." 


TAKEN  APART. 

Sandy  Greenlaw  was  in  the  habit  of  traveling  over 
Berwickshire  for  the  purpose  of  cleaning,  oiling  and 
mending  clocks  an«l  watches,  Ae  day  he  called  upon 
the  Rev.  Mr.  Wallace,  of  Abbey  St.  Bathans,  and  found 
the  minister  engaged  in  conversation  with  some  of 
his  parishioners.  Sandy  sat  for  some  time  wi'  his  hat 
between  his  knees,  and  at  last  he  lost  his  patience.  Ho 
rose  and  went  up  to  the  reverend  gentleman  and  said  : 
"Mr.  Wallace,  I  wad  like  to  speak  to  ye  in  private;  I 
wad  like  to  tak'  ye  apart."  "  Weel,"  said  the  minister, 
**  ye  can  do  that,  but  I  hope  ye  will  pit  me  thegether 


agam. 


» 


94 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


h 


If 


n 


JOHNNIE  ARMSTRONG. 
[Inscribed  to  John  Olivbr,  Esq.,  Bay  City,  Mich.]' 

Of  a'  the  outlaws  great  or  sma', 

Renowned  in  border  tale, 
I'm  free  to  swear,  nane  could  compare, 

Wi'  Johnnie  o'  Eskdale. 

Freebooters,  thieves,  and  gallows-knave» 
Auld  Scotland  ance  had  monie, 

But  deil  a  ane  could  "lift"  a  cow 
Or  twang  a  bow  wi'  Jolmnie. 

Bold  Donald  Caird,  Rob  Roy,  Jock  Paa 
Kicked  up  a  rowth  o'  rackets, 

I'd  wager  twa  three-pints  o'  brose 
He  could  have  warm'd  their  iackets! 

Had  a'  their  black  misdeeds  been  penn'd, 

And  judged  by  moral  law, 
I'm  bound  to  say,  that  his  exploits 

Would  overtowered  them  a'. 

Yet  I  ha'e  heard  my  grannie  say, 

And  here  I  now  record  it — 
That  Johnnie  only  stole  frae  them 

Wha  brawly  could  afford  it. 

Ae  mornin'  he  banged  out  o'  bed. 

And  ga'e  a  bugle  blast, 
And  then  he  cried,  "My  merry  men, 

Come,  let  us  break  our  fast. " 

Sae  ben  they  gaed  unto  the  ha'. 

And  curious  to  relate. 
They  saw  a  row  o*  riding-spurs. 

On  trencher  and  on  plate  1 

Then  Johnnie  laughed  both  loud  and  \&ne^ 
Then  cried,  "Losh!  I  declare, 

Thae  spurs  are  nae  mistaken  signs 
That  pan  and  pantry's  bare. 

"  To  horse!  to  horsel  my  merry  men, 
Come,  mount,  spur  and  away. 

And  let  us  hie  to  English  ground 
To  seize  and  drive  a  pi*ey." 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


»ft 


They  brattled  round  on  English  ground, 

And  lang  afore  the  mirk, 
They  hameward  drove  bath  sheep  and  kye, 

And  monie  a  stot  and  stirk. 

And  as  they  rode  alang  the  road 

They  came  to  stacks  o'  wheat ; 
Then  Johnnie  cried:  "By  earth  and  sea 

I  wish  they  had  four  feet ! " 

This  raid  took  place,  as  records  tell, 

When  simmer  days  were  prime. 
And  when  they  gained  Oilnockie  tower* 

They  had  a  glorious  time. 

They  brewed  their  ale,  they  drank  and  sang 

And  thieved  o'er  a'  the  border; 
They  stood  defiant  to  the  king 

And  scorned  baith  law  and  order. 

But  stern  King  James  cam'  round  aboot. 

And  by  his  royal  will, 
He  hanged  them  up  baith  ane  and  a' 

Tpon  tlie  gallows  hill ! 

Oh.  wae  betide!    Poor  Johnnie's  gane. 

His  guid  bent  bow's  unstrung. 
And  lie  wha  wad  misca'  his  name 

Had  better  hold  his  tongue  ! 

♦flilnfickie  tower,  once  the  stronghold  of  Johnnie  Armstrong,  is  situated 
in  Etikdaie,  on  the  banks  of  the  river  Esk,  and  is  now  a  ruin,  .\ccording  to 
Ro»)ert  Chambers  "Armstrong  and  his  thirty-six  companions  were  all 
hanged  upon  growing  trees,  which  immediately  withered  away,  as  if  to 
mark  the  injustice  of  .Johnnie's  sentence." 


NEVER  BOTHER  A  SICK  SHOEMAKER. 

"If  ye  will  to  Cupar  mauti  to  Cupar"  is  an  old  say- 
ing, but  I  ara  ignorant  of  its  origin.  Cupar  is  a  town 
in  Fifeshire,  and  the  saj'ing  means  that  if  an  individual 
will  not  listen  to  advice  let  him  go  liis  own  road.  This 
saying  was  well  brought  out  by  Joseph  Mercer,  one  of 
the  best  shoemakers  that  ever  waxed  an  end.  One  day 
George  Gourley  waited  upon  him,  and  desired  liim  to 


f 


f: 


!■    i 


96 


SKBTCIIES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


'% 


make  a  pair  of  boots,  and  quoth  Mr.  Gourley  :  "Joseph, 
I  must  have  them  on  Saturday  night,  as  I  have  to  stand 
sponsor  for  two  twins  on  Sunday  morning."  On  Satur- 
day evening  Mr.  Gourley  waited  on  Joseph  and  found 
him  in  bed  with  a  wet  towel  on  his  head  and  a  pair  of 
smoothing-irons  at  his  feet.  "  I  couldna'  get  your  boots 
done,  Mr.  Gourley,"  said  Joseph,  "  as  I  took  an  onfa'  and 
a  rumbling  in  my  head,  as  if  a  train  o'  cars  was  runnin* 
through  it."  "  Bliss  me  !  "  cried  Mr.  Gourley,  "  How- 
can  I  stand  sponsor  without  my  boots  ?  "  On  hearing 
this,  Joseph  sat  up  in  bed  and  looked  him  squarely  in 
the  face,  and  said,  "  Ye  may  gang  in  your  stocking  soles 
for  onything  that  I  care — he  that  will  to  Cupar  maun  to 
Cupar."  On  saying  this  be  fell  back  on  the  pillow  and 
cried  out,  "  Josephine,  Josephine,  bring  me  another 
wet  towel  and  another  pair  of  smoothing-irons." 


THE  SPINNING  WHEEL. 


[Inscril)f'(l  to  James  Fol'lds,  Esq.) 

As  I  j^facd  to  Camlachie  Toon.* 

I  mind  the  day  fu'  wecl 
For  tliere  I  spycd  a  thrifty  wife, 

A-spinnin'  at  her  wlieel, 
I  stood  a  gllT  at  her  door-staue. 

And  thr.'U  1  veutur'd  in. 
Quo'  I:     "  Guidwife,  wi'  your  consent. 

I'd  like  to  see  ye  spin. " 

Quo'  she:    "Guidman.  ju.st  come  your  ways, 

Cauld,  cauld's  tlie  mornin'  air. 
Come,  crook  your  hougix  and  rest  yoursel". 

Upon  that  muckle  chair." 
Slie  wasnn'  young,  slie  wasiia'  auld, 

But  ju.st  at  ween  the  twa; 
Her  cheeks,  her  lips,  were  rosy  red, 

Her  neck  was  like  the  snaw. 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECllOTES. 


It  plcascrrme  mucklc  to  observe 

Shelkept  her  house  in  order. 
It  pleased  ine^mair  whi*n  I  observ'd 

She  wore  a  widow's  border; 
And  as  she  made  the  wheel  lice  'round 

My  hoi>€S  and  fears  iucreas'd, 
At  ilka  birr  my  heart  played  spring. 

And  fluttered  in  my  breist. 

She  spak'  aboot  the  rook  and  reel, 

The  rowans  and  tlie  wcxj', 
But  faith,  I  took  mair  interest  in 

The  widow's  hinny  mou'. 
At  length,  I  said:  "I'm  mair  than  pleas'd 

To  watch  the  spinnin'  art; 
I'll  now  away,  which  proves  the  say 

"That  best  o'  friends  maim  part.'  " 

She  lookit  doon  at  her  black  goon, 

Then  cried:     '*0h,  wae  betide  ine," 
She  drapt  the  thread;  the  wheel  stood  still, 

Then  she  sat  doon  aside  me  I 
But  to  mak'  a  lang  story  short, 

We  soon  gat  booked  and  marrit, 
And  while  we  coo  about  the  hoosc, 

The  wheel  rests  in  the  garrit  ! 


97 


♦Cainlachie  is  situated  in  the  County  of  T^niliton,  near  Sarnia,  Ontario. 


;  '/ 

ill 

HE  STOOD  AND  GROANED. 

John  Heiton  had  an  anld  liorse  and  the  poor  beast 
turned  unco  ill  and  died.  We  were  a'  hits  o'  hairns 
then,  and  afore  its  death  John  wouM  froqtiently  ask  us 
to  ioup  into  his  cart,  and  there  we  would  sit  as  proud  as 
kings,  knowing  no  care.  Yet  that  is  not  true,  for  my 
chief  care  was  to  sit  aside  bonnie  Dorothy  Douglas  and 
tak'  her  hand  in  mine  for  fear  she  wad  fa'  over  the 
wheel.  When  us  bairns  were  coming  out  of  the  school, 
John,  and  a  few  more  men  were  carting  awa'  the  horse 
to  bury  it  out  of  sight,  and  we  all  silently  followed. 


98 


HK ETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


h.r 


I 


l!'-- 


I  i  ' ' 


Mi 


When  they  came  to  the  place  they  flung  the  animal  into 
a  hole,  and  John  stood  and  sighed  and  groaned.  On 
hearing  this  William  Ramsey  said,  '*  John,  man,  I  won- 
der at  ye ;  ye  are  making  as  mickle  wark  as  if  ye  had 
lost  your  guidwife  Tibbie."  (^uoth  John,  "  I  wad 
sooner  that  it  had  been  Tibbie,  for,  dear  me,  wi'  little 
fash,  I  could  soon  get  anither  wife,  but  where  in  a'  the 
earth  can  I  get  £5  to  buy  anither  horse  ?" 


HE  HAD  THE  LUMBAGO. 

Anna  Dunlop  was  as  innocent  as  a  lamb,  sweet  as  a 
rose,  and  as  pure  in  heart  as  the  dew  drop  that  hangs  upon 
the  heather  bell.  Now,  Anna,  along  with  her  grandfather^ 
paid  a  visit  to  some  friends  in  the  city  of  Glasgow. 
One  day  her  grandfather,  who  had  become  old  and  don- 
nert,  was  lost  and  could  not  be  found  high  or  dry.  She 
took  a  notion  in  her  head  that  he  had  fallen  into  the  Clyde^ 
and,  in  consequence,  she  sitated  her  fears  to  a  policeman. 
Quoth  he:  "  Are  there  any  marks  about  him  by  which 
he  could  be  identified  ?  "  "  Yes,"  said  she,  "  my  poor» 
poor  grandfather  had  the  lumbago  in  his  back." 


ACTION  AND  RE- ACTION. 

Scotland  may  boast  and  brag  of  her  Rob  Roy  Mc- 
Gregor, and  England  of  her  Robin  Hood,  but  we,  in 
Detroit,  can  with  more  reason  boast  of  Peter  Garr,  who 
is  a  married  man  and  a  fearless  fireman  before  the  peo- 
ple. Previous  to  saving  lives  he  knows  no  fear,  but 
when  they  are  saved  his  nerves  begin  to  fire  up,  and  hcr 
feels  as  if  some  evil  spirit  was  playing  at  hide-and-seek 
about  the  innermost  recesses  of  his  head  and  heart.  He 
finds  out  that  he  is  made  up  of  a  bundle  of  nerves,  and 
is  as  cross-grained  as  an  old  maid  on  the    road    to   a 


I 


ii!^ 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


flfr 


dentist  with  a  mustard  plaster  on  her  cheek.  I  have 
been  informed  that  Peter  on  those  trying  times  will  even 
snap  and  snarl  at  his  beloved  wife.  Mrs.  Garr,  however, 
is  an  amiable  wife,  and  she  has  the  good  sense  not  to 
retaliate,  as  well  she  knows  that  fire  cannot  be  quenched 
by  tow.  She  does  not  even  show  the  white  of  her  eyes. 
She  will  hurry  up  and  make  him  a  good  strong  cup  o' 
tea  and  butter  his  toast,  and  then  she  will  sit  down  by 
hie  side,  and  then,  to  use  an  old  saying,  she  just  "  jouks 
and  lets  the  jaw  gang  by."  Like  Zeno  of  old,  she  ha» 
discovered  the  grand  power  of  silence. 

My  dear,  go  bring  my  tiddle  ben, 

And  also  your  guitar. 
And  let  us  sing  wi'  right  guid  will — 

God  save  brave  Peter  Garr. 

How  fain  I'tl  be  if  I  could  write 

A  song  in  double  metre, 
The  burden  of  the  song  would  be, 

May  heaven  save  our  Peter. 


A  MELANCHOLY  COW. 

Rob.  Shaw  rented  a  sma'  farm  ca'd  the  Townhea*!. 
He  was  a  man  o'  large  dimensions  and  strong  in  bone 
and  muscle.  His  wife,  Rebecca,  on  the  other  hand,  was 
a  sma',  nervous  kind  o'  a  woman,  and  unco  quic'.c  o'  the 
temper.  Wi'  a  swift  hand  she  wad  thrash  the  bairns, 
cats  and  dogs  afore  they  kent  what  end  o'  them  was 
upmaist.  Ae  mornin'  she  rose  very  early  and  went  out 
to  milk  the  kye,  leaving  Rob  in  bed  snoring  away  like 
to  ding  doon  the  rafters.  When  she  cam'  in  again  she 
looked  at  him  and  she  said  :  "R<»b,  are  ye  no  up  yet 't 
As  sure  as  ony  thing  ye  are  just  lying  there  like  a  big 
melancholy  coo  wi'  a  gowan  in  her  mooth.  Come  ool  o' 
that  or  I'll  brain  ye'^n  the  spot." 

-"Co.vers.f--.^^ 

BIBLiOTHECA    )i 


**dViif*r>s'^ 


100 


HKKTCIIB8    AND    ANECDOTES. 


.'A 


-■■ 


if' 


( 


BABBY  BELL  AND  JOCK  REID. 

Auld  Babby  Bell  lived  in  cot, 

South  frac  the  Twinlaw  hill, 
Where  blooms  the  bonnio  heather  bells, 

Where  winds  the  wimplin'  rill. 
Her  hearin'  wasna'very  guid 

Since  ever  she  was  born; 
To  kirk  or  market  she  aye  took 

Her  muokle  hearin'  horn. 

Ae  day  she  gacd  wi'  pechin'  speed 

To  Lockermacus  toon, 
And  ga'e  instructions  to  Jock  Reid 

To  mak'  a  pair  o'  shoou. 
"Now  Jock"  quo'  she.  "  do  make  them  neat, 

For  I  am  gauii  awa' 
To  visit  Tani,  my  eldest  son, 

Wha'  lives  in  Edincraw. 

She  held  her  trumpet  to  her  lug; 
Jock  sent  these  words  doon  through — 
"  Thi  slioon  ye'll  get  will  not  disgrace 

The  Duchess  o'  Buccleugh. 
"  I'll  send  them  ower  on  Monday  nicht 
Wi'  knack-kneed  Robbie  Rule, 
I'll  pass  my  word  he'll  haund  them  in 
As  he  gangs  hame  frae  scule." 

Now  Babby  cried,  "Jock,  sew  them  weel, 

And  pick  the  best  o'  leather; 
On  Tuesday  I  maun  see  mj'  Tam 

In  spite  o'  wind  or  weather  ! " 
At  time  agreed  Jock  sent  the  shoon ; 

Woes  me  !  on  Tuesday  morn, 
Auld  Baddy  limpit  in  on  him, 

Wi'  her  lang  hearin'  horn. 

Then  she  cried  out,  "  Ye  worrie-cow^ 

Ye  scorpion,  and  ye  cheat. 
The  shoou  ye've  made  are  twisted  round, 

And  no  framed  for  my  feet, 
'*  I'm  like  a  hen  wi'  a  wud-leg; 

Man,  Jock,  ye'll  end  my  life, 
Or  turn  me  by  degrees  into 

A  harplin'  China  wife. 


I' 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


101 


"  Hech  mc  !  they're  just  a  perfect  botch, 

Then*  shapit  like  the  moon. 
I've  got  the  toothache  in  my  taes, 

Oh.  Jocic !  pu'  all  my  shoon  ! " 
He  lookit  doon,  lie  stood  amaz'd, 

He  saw  an  unco  sight, 
And  tlien  lie  cried,  "  Oh,  mercy  me, 

The  left's  upon  tlie  right ! " 

He  rive<l  tliem  ufT,  he  ramed  them  on. 

Quo'  she,  "  That  gi'es  me  ease," 
Then  Jock  leugh  like  to  burst  his  sides 

As  he  rose  afT  his  knees. 
"  Losh  me.  "  slie  cried,  "ye've  wrought  a  change, 

1 11  now  loup  like  a  troot, 
But  a'  the  shoon  that  e'er  I  had 

Were  aye  made  even-oot." 

"  Now  'fore  I  gang,  Jock  Ueid,  I  say 
Mang  things  I  ken  there's  aething — 
The  wisest  man.  though  e're  sae  wise 
He  just  kens  next  to  nuething  ! 
"  Ye  think  I'm  gaun  to  Edincraw  ! 
That  project  has  miscarried. 
Quid  faith  !    I'm  gaun  another  road — 
I'm  gaun  to  get  married." 


BETTER  BE  SURE. 
Polwarth,  in  Berwickshire,  has  gained  a  world-wide 
fame  from  the  old  song  entitled  "  Polwart  on  the 
Green."  It  was  in  that  place  that  Peter  Clinkscaies 
resided.  Somehow  he  got  it  into  his  head  that  he  would 
die  an  untimely  death  unless  he  got  married.  With  a 
view  of  self-preservation  and  being  deeply  in  love,  he 
waited  on  Thomas  Halliday  and  he  said,  "Father-in- 
law,  I  am  gaun  to  marry  your  daughter."  Quoth 
Thomas,  "Do  ye  think  ye  can  keep  a  wife ? "  "I  think 
I  can,"  quoth  Peter.  "  Ye  think  ye  can,"  quoth  Thomas  ; 
"  ye  had  better  think  twice  aboot  it,  and  be  unco  sure 
aboot  it  afore  ye  begin." 


li' 


* 

i 


'# 


102 


HKKTCilBM    AM)    ANKCDOTKK. 


Hi 


k 


) 


III' 

li'i 


I 

.,1 


ft 


A  FUACTIors  HORSE. 

John   Mid«llein!iH  had  a  Hue  horHe,  hul  it  wan  per- 
fectly  iiseh'SH.     It  would  neither  run  in  cart  or  gig  or 
draw  the  harrow.     One  day  John  hitched  it  into  a  <!art, 
but  it  stood  as  immovable  as  the  everl.isting  hilU.   John 
was  at  his  wit's  end.     At  lengtti  he  ordered  one  of  his 
iiired  men  to  tie  an  old  torn  eat  to  the  tail  of  it — hea<l 
downwards.     The  torn  cat  at  first  went  swinging  like 
the    pendulum   of   an  eight-day  clock.      At  length   it 
began  to  fuiT,  spit  and  send  its  claws  into  the  haunches 
■of  the  horse,  then  the  horse  reared  and  plunged,  while 
John  Middlemass  held  on   like  grim  death,  then  off  it 
flew  along  the  road  like  the  very  wind.     A  number  of 
people  thought  John  and  the  cat  would  \to  killed,  but 
they  all  returned  safe  home.     The  horse  turned  out  well, 
and  remarkable  to  state,  that  ever  afterwards  when  it 
saw  a  cat  it  would  tremble  in   lith  and  limb,  and  shake 
as  if  it  had  discovered  perpetual  motion.     To  prove  the 
perfect   do'^ility   of   the    animal,   John  afterwards  pre- 
sented it  to  an  old  sweetheart  of  his  who  had  jilted  him 
in  his  early  years. 

DOING  HIS  BEST. 

Aaron  Lycll  was  a  watchmaker,  full  of  sounding 
words  and  phrases,  which  he  inherited  from  his  mither 
— a  woman  whose  tongue  was  as  long  as  from  here  to 
the  back  o'  beyond.  One  day  James  Allardice  called 
upon  Aaron,  and  he  said,  "  How  are  you  this  morning, 
Mr.  Lyell  ?  "  Quoth  he  :  "  Thank  ye,  thank  ye,  Mr. 
Allardice,  I  am  still  keeping  upon  the  vertical,  and  still 
working  away  amang  the  pivots,  springs,  bushes  and 
washers,  and  doing  my  very  best,  wi'  a  willing  hand  and 
heart,  to  oil  the  wheels  o'  time,  and  keep  the  sands  o' 
life  frae  runnin'  doon.     Mr.  Allardice,  your  watch  must  ■ 


m ' 


AKRTCIIKS    AND    A.VErrtOTRH. 


KK) 


tmrely  be  wantin*  cleaning  K,  "s  lime — for  «ir,  yo  ken, 
I  ha*e  aften  heard  niv  mitlier  nay,  wha  in  now  ilea«t  hihI 
gane,  that  cleanlineHH  is  next  to  godlineHM.** 


TIIK  FAIRIES. 

riiiHcritKHi  to  JiiMBPii  TAVi.on.  Km].,  I)««trutt.l 

The  fairies  live  anitiiig  tlu-  liilis 
Aside  tli(;  l)<)niii<'  winding  rills  ; 
In  simmer  days  liow  sweet  tlu-y  siii)». 
And  (ianct?  around  the  fairy  rin>^ ! 
With  joy  tliey  wave  their  faiiy  wan<l, 
And  clasp  each  other  by  the  hand. 
And  now  ihev  lave  in  crvstal  wells, 
And  dream  amang  the  heather  liellH  ! 

When  glouniin'  comes,  and  idght  is  ni>;h, 
And  moon  and  stars  shine  in  the  sky, 
Then  band  in  hand  away  they  go, 
To  seek  the  couch  o{  urief  and  woe — 
To  smootli  the  pillow  of  despair. 
And  turn  aside  the  hand  of  care, 
And  beckon  angels  from  above 
To  sing  the  songs  of  pence  and  love  ! 

"O,  hush,  my  child, "  a  mother  sings— 
"  Come,'fairio8,  come  on  golden  wing.-* ; 
O,  rest,  my  child,  I  see  them  now, 
A-tlitting  rotmd  your  bonnie  brow  ; 
They  come,  my  love,  from  glen  antl  leu, 
To  bring  content  to  you  and  me. 
O,  sleep,  my  child,  I  see  them  now. 
A-weaving  roses  round  your  brow." 


I  Note. -Heotland  at  one  i^iriiHl  poHsesst'd  a  gn-at  nuinlwr  of  spiriin,  visi- 
ble and  invisible,  Kood  and  liad.  Tin-  following  list  of  tlu-s»>  was  ci>nipileti 
from  verbal  and  written  souroes,  by  thf  late  Dr.  Oeorgf  Mendersoii.  authoi- 
of  "Rhymes  and  I*roverbs  of  Berwiekshire :  "  "Elves,  haRS,  fairieH.  !>uU- 
hegKani,  spirits,  witches,  urchins,  satyrs,  pans,  fann<*s,  sylvans.  kit-witti-the- 
«andlestick,  tritona,  kelpies,  centaurs,  dwarfs,  giant.s.  imps,  calcars, 
a&sypods,  conjurers,  nymphs,  chaiiKlings,  incubus,  brownies,  tlu-  spoorey. 
the  nian-in-the-oak.  the  hell-wain  and  Tom  Tumbler."  In  consideration  of 
the  above  list,  and  of  the  fearful  tales  told  round  the  fireside  in  tiie  long 
winter  nights,  it  is  somewhat  remarkable  that  we  still  retain  uur  reasoning 
faculties.] 


its  I 


y 


104 


SKKTCIIBS    AND    ANECIiOTES. 


1;^ 


i^ 


SPIGOT  AND  PIN. 

To  those  unacquainted  with  barrels  I  may  make  men- 
tion that  the  spigot  is  connected  with  the  faucet,  and  the 
pin  is  placed  on  the  arch  of  the  barrel  for  the  purpose 
of  regulating  the  outcome  of  the  liquor.  One  morning 
Robert  Fulton  was  obliged  to  proceed  to  a  town  some 
miles  off.  Before  he  started,  his  wife  thus  said  : 
"  Robert,  whene'er  ye  gang  to  that  town  ye  never  ken 
when  to  come  back.  Now,  Robert,  ye  have  come  to 
that  time  o'  life  when  ye  ought  to  be  mending  your 
manners,  and  to  make  it  your  study  to  add  no  more 
trouble  to  my  loving  heart.  Now,  like  a  good  man  try 
and  do  your  best  and  strive  wi'  all  your  might  not  to 
come  home  in  untimely  hours."  "  Robinnia,"  he 
cried — for  that  was  her  maiden  name — "  I  swear  to  you 
by  spigot  and  by  pin,  that  I  will  be  back  lang  afore  the 
hens  place  their  nebs  below  their  wings."  With  this 
he  embraced  her  and  went  upon  his  waJ^  Alas  !  prom- 
ises are  like  the  crusts  of  pies,  when  they  are  short  they 
are  easilv  broken.  Dear  me,  he  returned  at  the  black 
hour  of  midnight,  and  quoth  Robinnia :  "  Robert, 
before  ye  went  away  did  ye  not  swear  by  spigot  and  by 
pin  that  ye  would  be  home  before  the  hens  had  gone  to 
roost  'r* "  "  Robinnia,"  he  cried,  "  it  was  an  error  o' 
judgment — blast  my  buttons,  I  dinna  ken  what  tempted 
me  to  swear  by  the  spigot  and  the  pin." 


A  FINE  START. 

We  had  an  old  man  in  our  parish  of  the  name  of 
Thomas  Denholm,  and  he  had  more  dry  sayings 
than  there  are  days  in  a  dry  summer.  One  day  my 
father  informed  him  of  the  death  of  a  man  who  had  just 
died  worth  £'20,000.  '*  Man,  he's  weel  off,"  quoth 
Thomas.  "It  will  gi'e  him  a  tine  start  in  the  next  world." 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


105 


o 

Hi 


of 


SWEET  BELLE  ISLE. 

[luscribed  to  James  0«AHAM,  Esq..  Detroit.  | 

"  Will  ye  slip  on  your  shoon.  gtjidwil'e, 
Will  ye  draw  on  your  jroou,  gtiidwife,  . 
And  gang  wi'  me  and  crack  awhile 
Amang  the  groves  o'  sweet  Belle  Isle? 

"I'm  sick  o'  city  din,  guidwife, 
Its  heat,  its  dust,  and  sin.  guidwife. 
Provisions  in  your  basket  pile, 
And  we'll  awa  to  sweet  Belle  Isle." 

"  Your  offer  I  will  take,  guidman. 
And  quick  a  scone  I'll  bake,  guidman, 
O  !  we  might  wander  monie  a  mile 
To  find  a  match  to  sweet  Belle  Isle. 

"A  guid  fat  hen  I'll  roast,  guidman. 
And  we'll  ha'e  tea  and  toast,  guidman; 
And  till  the  sun  steals  o'er  the  plain; 
We'll  live  our  young  days  o'er  again." 

It  no  took  lang  to  tutn  the  key, 
Syne  off,  they  gaed  wi'  gbidsome  glee; 
My  faith  they  spent  the  day^  in  style 
Amang  the  shades  o'  sweet  Belle  Isle. 

When  they  gat  hame  the  guid  wife  tells 
How  weel  they  had  enjoyed  theirsel's, 
And  since  she's  said  and  has  maintain'd 
Belle  Isle  is  paradise  regain'd  ! 


A  CHRISTIAN  COUNTRY. 

John  Rutherford  landed  in  Detrrit  from  Scotland, 

and   his   shoe-laces    gave  way.     He  went  into    a   store 

kept  by  a  Dutch  woman  and  inquired  if  she  had  a  pair 

o'  whangs.  At  this  question  the  woman  lianded  him  down 

a  pair  of  tongs.     "Mercy  me!  "cried  John,  as  he  went 

out  at  the  door,  "1  wish  I  was  safe  back  to  a  ('hristian 

country  wliere  the  ae  body  kens  what  the  ither  body 

says." 

8 


h  i\ 


C 


106 


SKETCHES    AND    AXECDOTES. 


hi 


I 


III' 

h 

IlK 


PAY  ON  DELIVERY. 

At  the  root  of  the  fairest  flower  a  grub  will  be 
found,  and  some  landlords,  behind  the  bar,  will  entice 
the  unwary  to  grul>  and  dig  from  their  pockets  their 
very  last  bawbee.  David  Fleming  was  a  landlord,  but 
his  rule  of  conduct  was  "  that  right  wrongs  no  man." 
One  day  John  Scott  went  into  his  bar-room,  and  he  said, 
"David,  I  want  a  dram."  After  drinking  the  dram, 
John  threw  down  twent^'^-five  cents,  and  David  handed 
him  the  change.  "  David,"  quo'  John,  "  Keep  the 
change,  for,  if  it  is  the  will  o'  Providence,  I  might  be 
requiring  another  dram."  "  Na,  na,"  quo'  David  ; 
"  That  will  never  do — that  is  contrary  to  the  established 
rules  o'  political  economy.  Put  up  your  siller,  John, 
and  take  ray  advice  and  pay  on  delivery." 


WOMEN  IN  OUR  HOURS  OP  EASE. 

Sir  Walter  Scott,  a  countryman  of  mine,  thus  wrote  : 
"  O,  women,  in  our  hours  of  ease,  uncertain,  coy  and 
hard  to  please."  Some  time  ago  I  rested  in  the  opinion 
that  my  countryman,  in  so  saying,  had  thrown  a  big 
insult  at  the  heads  of  the  w'hole  of  the  gentle  sex.  I 
have,  however,  after  more  experience,  been  reluctantly 
constrained  to  think  that  my  countrvman  was  riijht  and 
that  I  was  wrong.  In  proof  :  Robert  Bruce  was  a  res- 
identer  of  Innerwick,  and  one  morning  his  wife,  Juden, 
opened  out  the  flood-gates  of  her  wrath  uj)on  him.  She 
assailed  him  in  such  outrageous  terms  that  would  have 
even  made  the  blood  of  St.  Andrew,  the  patron  saint  of 
Scotland,  curdle  in  his  veins.  She  threw  in  his  teeth  a 
whole  catalogue  of  his  transgressions,  and  the  transgres- 
sions of  his  forefathers  for  several  generations  back. 
Robert  listened  to  her  with  patience,  as  he  had  discov- 


« 


SKETCHES  AND  AXECDOTES.  107 

ered  that  patience  is  a  plaster  for  all  sores.  At  last  he 
thought  he  would  reprove  her  mildly,  and  he  thus  said  • 
Juden  ye  ought  to  have  been  born  in  heaven  among 
the  angels  instead  of  being  born  in  Innerwick  amona  an 
accursed  race  of  blood-thirsty  savages." 

I  WISH  YE  WELL. 

Aukl  Kirsty  Scott  packed  up  her  kist 

And  wi'  it  gaed  awa, 
Alang  the  Gorbals  till  she  cam' 

Unto  the  Broomielaw 
She  saw  a  sailor  and  she  said, 

"  If  ye  are  sailing  soon. 
I  wish  ye'd  take  me  and  my  kist 

The  length  o'  Greenock  toon." 

The  sailor  said,  "Just  gang  on  board, 

And  at  the  rising  tide/ 
I'll  hoist  the  sail  and  'fore  the  gale 

I'll  take  ye  doon  the  Clyde." 
Now  when  Auld  Kirsty  paid  her  fare 

He  scarce  had  time  to  thank  her, 
For  off  he  sprang  the  deck  alang  ' 

And  quickly  raised  his  anchor. 
At  ilka  port  that  they  came  to 

Auld  Kirsty  .shoolf  her  tist, 
And  to  the  sailor  roared,  "  Take  tent 

And  no' thraw  off  my  kist." 
At  twa  three  ports  1  lie  sailor  spoke 

To  Kirsty  somewliat  ceevil, 
At  last  he  cried,  "  You  and  your  kist 
May  baith  gang  to  the  deevil." 

On  ruminating  on  these  words, 

He  thought  it  very  rude. 
That  he  had  spoken  to  tlic  wife 

In  such  an  angry  mood. 
So  when  they  came  to  Greenock  port, 

Quo'  he,  "  I  spoke  ye  wrang  ; 
I  wish  ye  weel,  and  to  the  de'il 

I  hope  ye  winna'  gang." 


m ! 


■i\'i: 


I,  i 


108 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


11' 
h 


IH 


Nc 

m 


M 


A  QUEER  KETTLE. 

Jenny  Douglas  was  an  auld,  antiquated  maid,  wi'  a 
nose  that  could  split  a  hail-stone,  and  a  tongue  that 
wagged  frae  raornin'  till  night  like  a  lamVs  tail.  Ae 
afternoon  she  said  : 

"  I  canna  be  bothered  raakin'  a  fire  to  mak'  a  drap  tea 
to  masel',  sae  I'll  e'en  thraw  on  ma  shawl  and  tak'  ma 
tap  in  ma  lap  and  gang  doon  to  Mary  Macalpin's  and 
dootless,  whan  the  hour  comes,  if  she  has  ony  sense 
remainin',  she  will  invite  me  to  tak'  pot  luck." 

Sae  awa  she  went  and  ga'e  a  bit  rap  wi'  her  knuck- 
les on  Mary's  door.  Mary  cam'  to  the  door,  and 
through  common  ceevility  she  couldna  do  mair  nor  less 
than  to  ask  her  to  come  in  and  rest  hersel'. 

**  The  auld  sinner,"  Mary  muttered  to  hersel',  "  she 
has  come  wi'  the  prospect  o'  takin'  her  tea  wi'  me,  but 
fient  a  drap  will  she  get  if  ma  name  is  Mary  Macalpin." 
Sae  soon  as  Jenny  gat  settled  on  a  chair  she  placed  her 
hands  on  her  knees  and  began  to  entertain  Mary  wi'  a' 
the  clashes  and  clavers  o'  the  country  side.  The  tea- 
kettle was  hangin'  on  the  fire  and,  "  Dear  me,"  quo' 
Jenny,  "  it's  gettin'  late,  and  as  sure  as  the  breath  o* 
life  is  in  me,  yere  kettle  is  beginnin'  to  sing."  Wi'  this 
Mary  drew  a  lang  breath,  and  quo'  she,  "  Ma  kettle's  a 
queer  kettle;  it  aye  sings  twa  lang  hours  afore  it  begins 
to  boil."  Wi'  this  Jenny  took  the  hint  and  she  gaed 
awa',  and  as  she  was  gaun  up  the  street  she  muttered  to 
hersel',  "  The  poor  silly  wasp  that  she  is;  there's  no  ae 
spark  o'  deacency  in  her  whole  frame.  My  certy,  I'll 
be  bound  ye  that  the  very  waters  o'  heaven  will  rin 
up  to  the  very  highest  taps  o'  the  Lammermoor  hills 
afore  ma  shadow  again  darkens  her  door." 


SKETCHES  AND  ANECDOTES. 


109 


STRIKE  THE  IRON. 
A  young  lass  lived  at  Algonac, 

And  she  was  sweet  and  bonnie  ; 
She  had  a  lad,  and  in  her  heart 

She  lo'ed  him  best  o'  ony. 
He  was  a  blacksmith  to  his  trade, 

And  ae  night  when  they  met, 
He  said,  "  O,  Mercy,  let  us  strike 

The  iron  when  it's  het." 
Quo'  she,  "Oh,  John,  what  do  you  mean  ?  " 

Quo'  he,  ••  There's  mair  than  ane 
Are  striving  sair,  baith  late  and  ere. 

Your  heart  and  soul  to  win." 
She  smiled  and  said,  "  I  scorn  them  a', 

I  wish  they  would  devauld  ;  " 
Quo'  he,  "  Let's  strike  the  iron  quick, 

In  case  it  should  grow  cauld. 
I  ha'e  a  house  on  yonder  bank, 
'Twas  left  me  by  my  father ; 
He  left  the  smiddie  free  frae  debt 

To  me  and  to  my  mither. 
And  'fore  my  mither  slipt  awa', 

A  year  by  past  come  June, 
She  said,  "  My  son.  Oh.  get  a  wife. 
And  settle  cannie  doon. 
"  My  father  was  a  man  o'  sense, 
His  words  I'll  ne'er  forget. 
His  dying  words  were,  '  Mind  and  strike 

The  iron  while  it's  het.' 
Now,  Mercy,  if  ye'll  be  my  ain, 

I'll  do  my  very  best 
To  be  to  you  baith  leal  and  true, 

So  you  can  judge  the  rest." 
Sweet  Mercy  blushed  and  ga'e  consent, 

John's  mind  Wius  off  the  rack  ; 
He  cried,  "  I'm  now  the  proudest  man 

That  breathes  in  Algonac." 
And  soon  tho  twa  in  wedlock's  bands 

Were  welded  and  united  ; 
Now  wi'  his  wife  the  brawny  smith 
Is  perfectly  delighted. 


f« 


0 


i. 


110 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


I     . 


A  DOG  FIGHT  IN  THE  DISTANCE. 

Many  years  ago  I  met  my  worthy  friend,  Mr.  Garry 
Hough,  in  Toronto,  Ont.,  and  whose  fame  as  an  actor 
is  world-wide.  He  then  informed  me  that  he  abhorred  and 
detested  crowds.  Meeting  him  the  other  day  I  inquired 
"  if  his  opinion  regarding  crowds  remained  unchanged?'* 
"  These  opinions,"  he  replied,  "  are  more  and  more  estab- 
lished. For  example,  if  I  saw  a  dog  fight  in  the  distance 
I  would  ring  down  the  curtain." 


YOU  MAY  GO. 

The  fishermen  and  fisherwives  are  a  distinct  class 
from  the  Scotch  folk  proper.  The  fishermen  catch  the 
fish,  and  the  fisherwives  carry  the  fish  in  creels  upon 
their  backs  to  find  a  market.  Their  voices  are  very 
melodious  and  it  is  pleasing,  when  in  bed,  to  hear  them 
cry  "  Wha'U  buy  my  caller  oou  ? "  through  all  the 
hours  of  the  night.  Some  of  these  fishermen,  when  the 
season  comes,  are  in  the  habit  of  going  to  the  north 
seas  in  whalers  for  the  purpose  of  catching  whales. 
These  people,  as  a  general  thing,  behave  well,  but  when 
the  drink  is  in,  their  wits  go  out,  and  they  behave  very 
uproariously.  Rob  Patterson  and  his  wife,  Jenny,  one 
day  had  a  great  uproar,  Rob  scowled  at  her  and  said  : 
"  Jenny  ye  are  ane  o'  the  deevil's  bairns,  and  ye  may 
gang  to  the  deevil."  He  then  went  and  got  a  few  glasses 
of  whiskey,  and  then  came  home  and  said :  "  I  am  gaun 
awa  to  Labrador  to  catch  whales."  Immediately  on 
making  this  observation  she  said:  "  Rob,  ye  may  gang 
to  the  deevil  and  catch  deevils,  and  stay  there  till  I  send 
for  ye."  At  the  conclusion  of  this  story  I  designed  to 
annex  an  application,  but  on  second  consideration,  I 
considered  that  such  was  unnecessary. 


:  , 


SKETCHES  AND  ANECDOTES. 


Ill 


GENERAL  GRANT. 

llnscribed  to  James  N.  Dean,  Esq.,  Detroit.] 

When  reason  was  baiiislied,  and  treason  arose, 

And  brother  'gainst  brother  dealt  deatli-dealing  blows, 

And  the  words  came  as  one  from  the  lips  of  the  brave — 

"The  flag  of  our  fathers  forever  must  wave  ;  " 
And  a  hero  arose  in  the  midst  of  our  woe, 

"Forward  I  "  he  cried,  "  we  must  vanquish  the  foe  !  " 
But  there's  gloom  on  the  earth,  and  there's  gloom  in  the  skies, 
And  the  light  burns  dim  in  the  room  where  he  lies. 

The  foe  is  fuivancing — every  eflfort  they  strain. 

But  back  they  are  hurled  again  and  again  ; 

And  the  shout  of  the  victor  is  heard  in  the  air — 
"While  liberty  lives  we  shall  never  despair  ;" 

And  the  hero  looks  round  on  the  death-stricken  field — 
"  We  must  conquer  or  die,  but  we  never  will  yield  !  " 

But  there's  gloom  on  the  earth  and  there  s  gloom  in  the  skies. 

And  the  light  burns  dim  in  the  room  where  he  lies. 

The  sword's  in  the  scabbard,  the  warfare  is  o'er,- 

May  the  din  of  the  battle  be  heard  nevermore; 

And  now  through  the  length  and  breadth  of  the  land, 

May  brother  meet  brother  with  heart  and  with  hand; 

May  the  past  be  forgot,  and  may  bitterness  cease. 

And  the  watchword  be  ever,  "come,  let  us  have  peace  !  " 

But  there's  gloom  on  the  earth,  and  there's  gloom  in  the  skies, 

And  the  light  burns  dim  in  the  room  where  he  lies. 


THE  CUTTING  OF  THE  CORSETS. 

The  minister  of  our  parish  had  a  face  as  calm  and 
composed  as  a  pelhicid  pool.  After  being  ordained  to 
the  ministry  he  was  only  known  to  have  laughed  once, 
and  that  was  when  he  was  troubled  with  the  kink-hoast, 
and  he  sent  for  the  doctor  to  examine  his  lungs.  After 
a  fair  examination  the  doctor  informed  him  that  they 
were  as  strong  as  a  pair  of  blacksmith's  bellows.  Hence 
the  result.  When  he  met  men  upon  the  road  tliey  would 
lift  their  hats  to  him,  and  when  he  met  women  they 
would  courtesy  to  him,  and  when  he  met  boys  or  girls 


0 


113 


SKETCHES    ANP    ANECDOTES. 


( 


.1 


v\ 


It 


they  would  blush  and  hang  down  their  heads  and  look 
like  condemned  criminals.  One  day  this  melancholy 
man — "  for  melancholy  had  marked  him  for  his  own  " — 
waited  on  Mrs.  Helen  Cleghorn,  who  received  him  with 
great  humbleness.  After  wiping  the  dust  oflf  the  chair 
with  her  apron  she  desired  him  to  sit  down,  which  he 
did.  Now,  Mrs.  Cleghorn  had  a  son  who  had  not 
reached  the  years  of  discretion,  and  he  began  playing 
with  childish  glee  about  the  minister's  knees.  On 
observing  this  the  minister  said :  "  Mrs.  Cleghorn, 
your  son  seems  to  be  very  fond  of  me."  Whereupon, 
and  without  a  moment's  consideration,  she  replied  : 
"  O,  I  dinna'  wonder  at  that,  for  children  are  always 
fond  of  dogs  and  daft  folk."  She  had  no  sooner  uttered 
these  words  when  vexation  struck  her  upon  the  fifth  rib 
and  down  she  fell  on  the  floor  in  a  dead  faint.  Some 
time  after  this  most  distressing  and  melancholy  event 
took  place,  the  writer  of  these  lines  took  up  his  quarters 
in  the  city  of  Edinburgh.  On  revisiting  my  natal 
ground  I  called  upon  Mrs.  Cleghorn,  and  the  remainder 
of  the  storv  had  better  be  told  in  her  own  words  :  "  Yes, 
yes,  Andrew,  ray  man,  I  had  no  sooner  said  the  last 
word,  than  doon  I  fell  on  the  floor  like  a  dying  duck 
in  a  thunderstorm."  "  And  how  did  thev  revive  ve, 
Mrs.  Cleghorn,"  I  inquired.  '*  Revive,"  she  replied,  "  my 
faith,  I  got  a  fine  revival.  The  minister  and  my  guid- 
man  got  knives  and  ripped  ray  corsets  into  ribbons,  so 
I  was  obliged  to  buy  a  pair  o'  new  anes."  "  And  Mrs. 
Cleghorn,"  I  inquired,  "  if  it  is  a  fair  question,  what  did 
ye  do  with  your  old  anes  !  "  "  Andrew,"  she  said,  "  I 
was  unco  mad  about  it,  but  as  a  shut  mouth  catches  no 
flies,  I  just  gathered  tliem  together  and  flung  them  on 
the  back  o'  the  Are." 


8KETCHK8    AND    AXKCUOTKS, 


113 


CURING  A  FAT  WIFE. 

A  doctor  livVl  this  side  o'  Lethe 
Kened  by  the  name  o*  Abernethy, 
And  what  gives  me  great  satisfaction. 
He  was  a  man  o'  Scotch  extraction. 
For  e'en  the  bells  in  school  and  steeple 
Proclaim  they're  Heaven's  own  chosen  people! 
But  here  the  truth  must  be  laid  bare, 
The  doctor  was  inclined  to  swear, 
And  curse  all  kinds  of  shams  and  flummery, 
The  vain  pretenses  and  sic  lilte  mummery, 
And  on  the  saying  would  descant. 
"That  folk  wha  wadna'  work  should  want. ' 
Great  was  his  skill,  for  we're  assur'd 
That  many  a  desperate  case  he  cur'd, 
And  when  his  guinea-fee  was  reapit, 
Fu'  brawly  he  kent  how  to  keep  it. 

Ae  morn  a  fat  guidwife  fell  sick, 
She  roar'd,  "Rin  for  the  doctor,  quick; 
Oh  !  mercy  on  us,  dear  sakes  me, 
I'm  just  as  ill  as  ill  can  be; 
My  thoughts  they  canna  be  deceivers, 
I've  got  my  share  o'  burning  fevers, 
My  lips  will  scarcely  part  asunder, 
And  oh  !  my  mouth's  as  dry  as  tinder; 
My  leet  o'  life  is  near-hand  tied, 
Oh  !  lift  me  canny  to  my  bed; 
And  when  I'm  ance  amang  the  claes. 
Ye  soon  will  see  me  end  my  days." 

Wi'  mony  a  rug  and  furious  rive 
Tliey  laid  her  on  her  bed  alive; 
Certe.s  !  it  was  a  jol),  I  trow, 
It  raised  the  sweat  on  ilka  brow, 
Wi'  their  big  load  they  well  mii,^lit  gro.m— 
Her  net  gross  weight  was  fourteen  stoiK. 

The  doctor  to  lier  bedside  rusli'd, 
He  gazed,  and  evt-ry  breath  \v;is  lui.sh'd. 
As  some  had  liarbor'd  llio  delu.siou 
That  she  was  near-hand  her  conclusion' 


h  'I  < 


114 


BKBTCIIES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


He  felt  her  pulse— quo'  he,  *'  what's  wraiig  ?" 

Quo'  she,  "  I'm  no  worth  an  auld  sang, 

Oh  !  doctor,  dear,  I'm  niair  than  sick, 

I'm  unco  sure  I'm  sinking  quick. 

Doctor  !  my  head  is  like  to  rive, 

It  buzzes  like  a  hornet's  hive; 

My  head,  my  head,  my  brain,  my  brain, 

Is  whirrlin'  round  like  a  mill-stane. 

My  heart,  it  fa's,  it  jumps,  it  stounds, 

As  if  'twad  burst  its  very  bounds; 

Doctor,  oh,  man,  my  very  hair 

Rives  at  the  roots  o'  black  despair. 

Wi'  herbs  or  drugs,  come  (juickly  fill  me." 

But  oh,  in  mercy  dinna  kill  me." 

The  doctor  then,  upon  inspection. 
Wrote  out  a  cure  for  her  aflliction, 
And  ere  the  writing  was  begun. 
She  handed  to  him  one  pound  one. 

"  To  take  the  pound,"  quo'  he,  "  I'm  willing. 
But,  madam,  take  ye  back  the  shilling. 
And  quickly  send  to  the  first  shop 
And  get  a  good  strong  skipping-rope, 
I  cannot  say  that  I  bemoan  ye. 
Your  sickness  lightly  rests  upon  ye. 
The  truth  within  a  nutshell  lies. 
Ye  need  a  course  o'  exercise; 
I  scarce  can  speak  to  you  discreetly. 
Your  nerves  have  master'd  j'ou  completely. 
And  now  ye  howl  for  doctor's  potions 
To  drown  your  vain,  accursed  notions. 

"Jumping,"  he  cried,  "will  soon  recruit  ye, 
Then  fewer  ills  ye'll  ha'e  aboot  ye." 
He  growl'd  and  said,  "  Keep  my  directions," 
Then  left  her  to  her  ain  reflections. 

My  faith,  if  I'd  been  in  his  shoon, 
I  wadna'  hurried  alf  sae  soon. 
Wi'  solemn  face  and  words  I  vow, 
I'd  stopt  to  see  her  swing  the  tow. 
I'd  blythely  gi'en  o'  gowd  a  gowpen 
To  see  the  sonsy  guidwife  loupin.' 
I'm  more  than  sure  'twould  been  a  sight. 
Would  filled  me  with  supreme  delight. 


UKBTCIIES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


lift 


Her  conduct  we  must  all  appluud, 
For  in  conclusion,  I  muy  add, 
Thut  she  began  with  efforts  slow 
To  battle  'gainst  the  lazy  foe; 
She  followed  up  the  doctor's  rules 
And  deftly  sprang  o'er  chairs  and  stools. 
Nature  prevail'd,  and  the  guidwife 
Took  out  another  lease  o'  life. 
Her  case  obtain 'd  great  notoriety 
In  all  the  circles  of  society ; 
And  furthermore,  the  doctor's  name 
Re-echoed  from  the  trumps  of  fame. 


.'ii     >| 
■  » 


GANG,  GANG,  GANG,  MR.  BRISBANE. 

Greenlaw   is   situated   in   the   bonnie   border  land. 

Although  its  population  is  small,  it  is  a  town  of  some 

pretensions.     It  is  the  county  town  of  Berwickshire,  and 

on  that   account    the    inhabitants   consider  themselves 

a  kick  above  the  common.      On  the   principal   street 

stands  firstly  the  church,  secondly  the  jail  and  thirdly 

the  court-house.     One  day  a  stranger  entered  the  town 

and  he  described  these  three  buildings  in  the  following: 

couplet: 

"There  stands  the  gospel  and  the  law, 
Wi'  hell's  hole  between  the  twa." 

In  this  town  Duncan  Gowdspink  resided,  and  he  was 
a  most  determined  poacher.  lie  was  light  of  limb  and 
as  cunning  as  a  fox.  I  knew  him  well.  In  fact,  to  tell 
the  plain  truth  and  shame  the  deil,  I  was  once  within 
an  ace  of  being  related  to  him.  He  met  my  aunty  one 
night  and  he  proposed,  and  asked  her  if  she  would 
deliver  up  to  him  her  hand  and  heart,  but  she  said: 
"  No,  Duncan,  I  am  under  great  obligations  to  you  for 
your  offer,  but  your  offer  I  can  by  no  means  accept,  as 
Duncan,   Oh,    Duncan,   I   have   got   other  fish  to  fry. 


w 


lie 


SKETCH  EH    AND    ANKCDOTEH. 


■  I 


I'  I 


If 


III: 


N.  B.  She  afterwards  got  married  to  Stephen  Kinghorn 
and  became  the  mother  of  a  large  family.  Duncan 
also  got  married  to  Martha  Boghead  and  he  also  be- 
came the  father  of  a  large  family.  So,  by  this  the 
reader  may  perceive  that  it  is  an  ili  wind  that  blows 
nobody  good.  One  would  have  naturally  thought,  that 
•o  situated,  Duncan  would  have  renounced  his  poach- 
ing proclivities,  but  such  was  not  the  case.  One  night, 
alas,  he  was  caught  with  his  gun  in  one  hand  and  a  hare 
in  another,  and  for  this  he  was  thrown  into  hell's  hole. 
How  dismal  were  Duncan's  thoughts  when  his  mind  re- 
verted to  his  beloved  Martha  and  his  numerous  family. 
Unruffled  minds  can  enjoy  sweet  repose,  but  Duncan 
could  find  no  repose.  It  was  as  difficult  a  matter  as  to 
catch  a  black  sow  on  a  dark  night  upon  a  bleak  and  bar- 
ren moor.  How  he  longed  to  obtain  his  liberty.  He 
resembled  Sterne's  starling,  described  in  his  "Sentimen- 
tal Journey."  He  wanted  to  get  out.  The  cell  door 
flew  open,  and  Alexander  Brisbane  entered.  "  Oh,  Mr. 
Brisbane,"  cried  Duncan,  "  I  am  glad  ye  ha'e  come;  Oh, 
Mr.  Brisbane,  for  the  love  of  all  the  saints  and  sinners, 
dead  and  alive,  go  and  get  Jasper  Aitchison  to  come 
and  bail  me  out."  "Jasper  Aitchison,"  replied  Mr. 
Brisbane,  "  He  would  be  the  last  man  to  bail  you  out. 
To  ask  him  to  bail  you  out  would  be  nothing  but  stark 
madness  and  a  waste  of  words.  No,  no,  Duncan,  I 
winna'  gang — it  wad  just  be  as  needless  as  throwing 
water  on  a  drowned  mouse."  "  Oh,  Mr.  Brisbane,"  cried 
Duncan,  "for  the  sake  o'  jNfartha,  Peter,  Tom,  Nell, 
Jean  and  the  rest  o'  ray  family,  gang,  gang,  gang  and 
ask  him,  Mr.  Brisbane,  and  I  will  stop  here  until  ye 
come  back."  "Duncan,"  replied  Mr.  Brisbane,  "Try 
and  keep  your  ^\'md  as  calm  as  a  cow  chewing  her  cud 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTRH. 


117 


on  a  rainy  day,  and  make  yourself  as  comfortable  as  eir- 
curaBtances  will  permit,  and  remember  that  when  a  man, 
or  even  a  woman,  jLjets  into  hell's  hole  it  is  not  a  very 
easy  job  to  get  out  again." 


SCOTLAND. 

[Inwribeil  to  Alkx.  Forbkh,  Esq.,  Chicago.] 

Scotland  I    How  glorious  i.s  the  theme 

That  in  the  days  bygone, 
Your  patriot  sons  undaunted  stood. 

And  battled  for  their  own. 
Time  .ifter  time  the  f(X'  advanc'd. 

Your  rights  to  trample  down, 
To  blot  your  name  forever  out, 

And  grasp  your  royal  crown. 

Your  sons  could  never  bow  the  knee, 

Or  brook  the  tyrant's  chains  ; 
Nature  has  written  on  your  hills— 

"  Here  freedom  ever  reigns." 
Sons  of  the  brave,  your  liearts  were  one 

That  Scotland  must  be  free  ; 
Now  tar  and  near  the  cry  is  heard, 

"  Wha  dares  to  middle  me  ? " 

Forward  !    See  Scotland's  gallant  sons 

Dash  on  to  meet  the  foe, 
Their  strong  riglit  hand  grasps  freedom's  sword. 

And  freedom  guides  the  blow. 
Their  bows  are  bent   their  swords  are  keen, 

And  with  their  matchless  might, 
Strongly  they  stand  to  crush  the  wrong, 

And  battle  for  the  right. 

The  battle  rages  fierce  and  fell, 

Till  o'er  the  deadly  fray 
The  welkin  rings,  "  The  victory's  won," 

Scotland  has  won  the  day. 
While  heather  blooms  on  Scotland's'hills, 

And  while  her  thistles  wave, 
Freedom  will  tlourish  ou  her  soil 

And  guard  the  warrior's  grave, 


^Si 


d 


\    .:  < 


h     I 


118 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


I*' 
fr,. 


A  MISTAKE. 

Mercy  Ramage  was  a  prudent  wife,  and  a  kindly- 
one.  At  times,  however,  sbe  allowed  her  nerves  to  get 
the  better  of  her,  and  on  these  occasions  she  neglected 
to  temper  her  tongue.  One  morning  she  rose  from  bed 
from  off  her  wrong  side,  and  gave  Caleb,  her  guidman, 
some  sharp  words  which  pierced  him  to  the  quick.  He 
could  st.md  it  no  longer,  bo  he  went  out  and  went  up 
and  sat  on  top  of  the  chimney.  Mercy  lost  sight  of 
him.  At  last  she  saw  him,  and  she  cried  out:  "What 
are  ye  doing  up  there?"  Caleb  answered:  "I  am 
taking  Solomon's  advice  wha  says,  'that  it  is  better  to 
dwell  in  a  corner  of  the  house-top  than  with  a  brawling 
wife  in  a  wide  house.' "  "  Blast  ye,"  she  cried,  "  I  will 
soon  bring  ye  down  out  o'  that."  She  went  in  and 
kindled  a  rousing  fire  and  the  reek  went  up  and  down 
came  Caleb  bellowing  like  a  hungry  cow  in  a  strange  loan. 
He  rubbed  his  eyes  and  cleared  his  windpipe,  and  then 
he  muttered  to  himself,  "  Solomon  must  have  made  a 
mistake." 

ARE  YOUR  OWN  SKIRTS  CLEAR  ? 

One  day  Robert  Rathbone  said  to  John  Prettyman 
"  That  the  Prince  of  Wales  is  setting  a  very  bad  exam- 
ple to  the  world  at  large  by  his  gambling  proclivities." 
"  Stop  !  "  cried  John.  "  Blackstone  says  '  that  every 
man's  house  is  his  castle,'  an  heir  apparent  must  have 
some  kind  of  in-door  amusement.  Sir,  no  tree  takes  so 
deep  a  root  as  prejudice,  and  malice  seldom  wants  a 
mark  to  shoot  at.  Before  we  condemn  others  wt  should 
see  that  our  own  skirts  are  clear.  The  prince  was  born 
with  the  silver  spoon  in  his  mouth,  but  we  were  born 
with  the  wooden  ladle.  Sir,  it  is  your  poverty  that  has 
Jkept  you  in  bounds.     If  you  had  been  born  rich  I  have 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


119 


M 


•no  doubt  but  that  you  would  have  j)roved  a  most  notor- 
ious profligate,  and  I,  with  original  sin  dwelling  in  my 
heart,  might  have  followed  in  j-our  footsteps.  Sir,  pray 
remember  the  old  saying,  '  that  the  best  of  us  would  do 
little  for  God  if  we  thought  the  devil  was  dead.'" 


A  WET  WEAVER. 

In  Earlstown  a  weaver  lived, 

Wlia  aft  went  on  the  batter  : 
Wlien  comitig  off,  he.  like  the  ducks, 

Took  kindly  to  the  water. 

Though  hail-stanes  dashed  and  Boreas  blew 

A  raving  wild  oration, 
The  weaver  from  his  bed  would  spring 

With  great  precipitation. 

And  bicker  forth  with  wild,  wierd  looks. 

And  to  the  Leader  rin, 
And  cast  his  claes,  and  break  the  ice. 

And  instantly  loup  in. 

And  there  he'd  swatter,  dook  and  plunge, 
And  shiver,  shake,  and  cough. 

Which  exercise  had  the  effect 
To  calm  and  cool  him  off. 

One  day  when  drawing  on  his  drawers. 
He  spoke  with  solemn  measure— 
"  My  faith,  I'm  sure  a  drachm  o'  health 
Is  worth  a  pint  o'  pleasure." 


A  WI.^II. 
Thomas  Morrison  resides  in  Detroit.  lie  is  distantly 
related  to  Jeamie  Morrison,  celebrated  in  Afot  her  well's 
unequalled  ballad  or  tliat  name.  He  wears  a  wig  but 
he  disna'  want  onybody  to  ken,  as  he  is  at  present  ettel- 
ing  to  get  married  again  for  the  third  and  last  time. 
During  the  dry  spell  he  said:  "I  wish  frae  the  very 
i>ottom  o'  ma  heart  that  the  windows  o'  heaven  wad 
open,  for  the  very  hair  o'  ma  head  is  withering  awa'. 


n 


»> 


120 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


IN  AND  OUT 

Charlev  Stewart  was  a  IIi<jhlandman  who  cam'  dooii 
to  the  Lowlands  o'  Scotland  and  got  married  to  Maggie 
McWatt.  Now  Maggie,  had  a  house  o'  her  ain  and  she 
also  possessed  baith  sense  and  siller.  For  a  space  they 
were  like  two  wood-pigeons,  extraordinary  fond  o'  ane 
anither.  But  for  some  cause  the  bonds  o'  love  that 
existed  suddenly  gave  way.  Charlie  got  dour  and  per- 
verse, and,  Maggie  got  sulky  and  sour,  so  much  so 
that  if  she  had  looked  into  a  wash-tub  fu'  o'  spring-well 
water  it  would  have  turned  into  vinegar.  Alas  !  the 
course  of  married  love,  sometimes,  does  not  run  smooth- 
ly. Maggie  whistled  Charlie  into  her  house  to  the  tune 
"  Welcome,  Royal  Charlie,"  but  she  whistled  him  oot 
wi'  a  big  stick,  and  he  ran  into  the  woods  and  he  sat 
doon  at  the  rout  o'  a  tree  and  he  mournfully  sang: 
"Oh,  why  left  I  my  hame, 
Wliy  did  I  cross  the  deep." 


INFORMATION  WANTED. 

Robert  Jobson  is  a  very  Avorthy  man,  and  a  resident 
of  Detroit.  He  is  becoming  old,  and  age  has  begun  to 
confuse  his  brain  and  jumble  his  judgment.  Last  win- 
ter a  barking  cold  caught  hold  of  him  and  gave  him  a 
severe  shaking  up.  On  his  recovery  he  found  out  that  the 
drums  of  both  his  ears  had  got  broken  and  the  result 
was  that  Robert  was  unable  to  catch  sounds  with  alac- 
rity. One  day  he  was  proceeding  up  Jefferson  avenue 
for  the  purpose  of  purchasing  a  hearing  trumpet.  He 
was  accosted  by  a  stranger,  and  quoth  the  stranger, 
"  Sir,  can  you  tell  me  where  the  city  hall  is  ?  "  Quoth 
Robert,  "  I  dinna  ken  ony  body  o'  that  name.  She  nuisl 
be  living  out  in  the  suburbs." 


SKETCHES    AXn    AXEroOTES 


121 


THE  liUXG  AND  SNUFF  CURE. 

Ilnscribed  to  Dn.  J.  R.  (TBrien.  Detr„it.| 

In  Edinbro'  a  doctor  lived 

Not  far  from  Holyrood, 
And  lie  was  known 'for  miles  around 

By  name  o'  Sandy  Wotxl. 
He  was  a  man,  lang,  lank  and  lean, 

And  somewhat  bent  and  crookit, 
Yot  he  was  strong  in  lith  and  limb. 

Far  stronger  than  he  lookit. 

He  had  great  skill  o'  human  ill, 

And  (juick  upon  occasion, 
Your  doom  he  would  pronounce  without 

A  moment's  hesitation. 
He  was  a  modest  dressing  man, 

He  scorned  a'  chains  and  lockets, 
But  he  had  wisdom  in  his  head, 

And  lancets  in  his  pockets. 

He  also  carried  certain  drugs 

Commended  in  his  thesis, 
And  these  he  gave  to  folk  who  were 

Tormented  with  diseases. 
For  horses,  cuddies,  mules  or  gigs 

He  had  nae  brew  or  notion. 
He  only  used  his  ain  twa  legs' 

By  way  o'  loconiotion. 

And  what  is  mair  whene'er  he  gaed 

To  visit  auld  or  young, 
He  never  failed  to  take  wV  him 

*  great  big  hazel  rung. 
One  nigl.t  a  councilman  grew  ill, 

His  name  was  Andrew  Young' 
His  pulse  was  high,  his  spirits  low. 

His  nerves  were  a'  unstrung. 

Faith  he  was  ill  there  was  nae  doubt, 
But  something  did  assure  him, 

That  Sandy  Wood  wi'  his  great  skill 
Would  do  his  best  to  cure  him 


p 


1 


^S:j: 


*-^l 


122 


SKETOHES    ANI>    AXKrOOTES. 


And  !iye  he  raved  and  better  rav'd, 
And  roared  "by  a'  tliat's  good, 

I'm  goin.^  quick,  I'm  sinking  fast. 
Oh,  <.<'vn\  for  Sandy  Wood.' 

Now,  Andrew  liad  a  servant  lass, 

Her  name  was  Jean  M(  Ivallop, 
And  for  tlie  doctcjr  olT  she  ran 

As  fast  as  she  could  wallop. 
Jean  liad  a  fault,  but  it  was  sma' 

And  sctirce  worth  while  to  mention, 
She  snulred,  but  how  she  learne<l  to  sn'irt'. 

Is  past  my  comprehension. 

Though  Jean  ran  off,  still  Andrew  cried, 

"I'll  soon  be  dead  and  gano, 
I'll  e'en  be  cauld  e'er  Sandy  .sets 

His  fit  o'er  my  door-stane. 
Oh,  Sandy,  come — he  winna  come, 

I'm  sair  inclined  1o  doot  it, 
I'll  hurry  olT  for  him  mysel'. 

And  he'll  ken  nought  aboot  it.  " 

And  60on  he  reached  the  d<x;tor's  door, 

And  on  a  lassie  seein', 
He  cried,  "  rin  lass,  k»ll  Dr.  Wood 

That  Andrew  Young  is  deein'. 
There's  half  a  croon,  now  rin  without 

A  moment  o'  delay, 
Oh,  flee,  my  sweet  wee  lassikic. 

And  tell  him  what  I  say.'' 

Then  back  he  hurried  to  his  hame. 

And  when  upon  the  rout. 
My  faith,  he  little  did  jelouse 

That  he  wad  be  found  out. 
When  he  was  mounting  liis  doorstep, 

Wi'  a'  his  nerves  unstrung. 
Haith,  Sandy  Wood  cam'  in  idiint 

Wi'  his  big  ha/el  rung. 

And  on  his  skull  he  d(jon  cam"  ycrk. 
Loud  Andrew  roared,  ■"  (>h,  me. 

Oh,  doctor  .stop,  and  by  my  .saul 
I'll  double  up  your  fee   ' 


SKETCHES    AXn    AVECDOTES. 


123 


Now,  Jean  McKallop  had  kept  close 

Upon  the  doctor's  track, 
As  she'd  a  thought  her  mjuster  would 

Be  dead  e're  she  got  back. 

She  saw  the  doctor  ply  his  rung, 

She  cried,  "  guid  guide  us  a'," 
Then  doon  she  rushed  raang  pots  and  pan.s 

And  fainted  <;leau  awa. 
The  doctor  went,  loud  Andrew  roar'd, 

"  Rise,  Jean,  he's  broke  my  skull  ' 
Then  Jean  arose  and  to  his  nose 

She  held  her  sneeshin'  mull. 


A  CLOSE  CALL. 

The  winding  Whitadder  is  a  tributary  of  the  silvery 
Tweed,  and  on  its  banks  the  Laird  of  Bankhead  had  an 
cBtate.  He  was  a  grunting,  gruesome  old  savage,  and 
as  cross-grained  as  a  badger  in  a  barrel.  There  is  an  old 
saying  that  "  A  blythe  heart  makes  a  blooming  face," 
but  his  face  was  as  free  from  bloom  as  is  the  woodland 
rose  bush  in  the  gloomy  month  of  December.  He  had 
a  brother  who  resided  with  him.  I  cannot  place  a  high 
estimate  on  his  abilities,  as  he  had  none.  In  a  word,  to 
use  the  language  of  that  district,  he  was  nothing  more 
nor  less  than  a  natural  born  idiot.  One  day  the  laird 
and  all  his  men  drove  the  .sljrcjt  to  the  banks  of  the 
stream  for  the  purpose  of  being  i?horn.  While 
the  shearing  was  progressing,  the  laird's  brother, 
to  watch  the  operations,  climbed  up  a  tree 
whose  branches  overhung  a  deep  pool,  lie  was 
sitting  on  one  of  the  branches  with  a  moderate 
degree  of  comfort,  when  it  suddenly  broke,  and  down 
he  went  as  if  he  bad  been  struck  by  one  of  Jove's 
thunderbolts.  On  observing  which  the  sheep-shearerg 
rushed    down  the   bank  to  rescue    him,  but   the   laird 


'I 


€ 


f^ 


::/ 


124 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


roared  out,  "Stop,  come  back,  he  is  of  no  earthly  use, 
let  him  drown  and  be  done  with  him."  However, 
they  pulled  him  out  and  held  him  up  by  the 
heels  for  the  purpose  of  allowing  the  water  to  gush  out, 
and  then  on  the  green  grass  they  rolled  hira  round  and 
round.  Suddenly  he  sprang  to  his  feet,  and  for  a  space 
stood  shivering  like  a  dog  in  a  wet  sack,  and  then  after 
looking  all  around  the  horizon,  he  roared  out,  "  Mercy 
me,  where  am  I  ?    I  must  have  had  a  close  ca'." 


SHE  LOST  HER  WIG. 

Harkin,  James  McAllister,  relates  the  following;  I 
was  born  in  an  inlying  part  o'  Scotland  and  Jean  Mc- 
Donald lived  next  door  to  rav  mother.  In  course  of 
time  Jean  and  I  got  booked,  cried,  and  married.  Now, 
shortly  after  these  interesting  events  took  place  we 
took  it  into  our  heads  to  emigrate  to  America.  Now, 
observe  ye,  Jean  had  a  grannie,  and  in  consequence  she 
was  my  step-grannie,  and  nothing  would  serve  her  but 
that  she  would  shoulder  arms  and  accompany  us  in  our 
perilous  undertaking.  When  within  sight  o'  land  my 
step-grannie  was  as  bold  as  a  flying  dragoon,  but  rever- 
ses will  come  whither  or  no.  One  morning  she  got  out 
upon  deck,  and  she  was  no  sooner  out  than  a  tempes- 
tuous gust  o'  wind  blew  her  wig  overboard:  "Bless 
my  soul  and  body,"  she  cried,  "James,  I  ha'e  lost  my 
wig."  "  Tuts,  never  mind,"  I  said,  "  I  will  borrow 
another  ane  f  rae  the  captain,  wha  keeps  a  lot  o'  them  in 
his  chest  in  case  o'  accidents."  On  hearing  this  and 
under  bare  poles,  she  looks  round  about  her  and  then 
she  says:  "Dear  rae,  the  ground  is  a'  covered  wi' 
water."  "What  nonsense,  step-grannie,"  said  I,  '*  dinna 
ye  see  the  land  in  the  distan<'e  V  "     "  Na,"  quo'  she,  "  I 


our 

my 
jver- 

out 
ipes- 

>les& 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


125 


canna  see  it,  yet  I  canna  for  one  moment  misdoubt  its 
existence.  James,  I  ha'e  turned  unco  sick — for  the  love 
o'  heaven  carry  me  down  below." 


NATURAL  WOOL. 

[Inscribed  to  Robt.  Reid,  Esq.,  London,  Ont.j 

Tam  Norrie  grew  sick — just  as  sick  as  sick  could  l)e, 
And  he  said  to  his  wife,  "Oh.  I  doot  I  will  dee. 
I'm  nearing  the  end,  and  as  sure  as  a  shot 
Ye'U  get  married  agam  and  I'll  soon  be  forgot. 
I  wish  ye  wad  hurry  and  slip  on  your  shoon, 
And  rin  a'  the  road  awa  doon  to  the  toon, 
And  gang  into  the  shop  kept  by  Robbie  McFee, 
And  buy  me  the  best  woolen  sark  ye  can  see.  " 

Now  Nannie,  his  wife,  was  a  smart  kind  o'  body, 
She  ga'e  her  consent,  and  soon  got  hersel'  ready  ; 
As  oot  at  the  door  like  a  Untie  she  went 
She  cried  back  to  Tammie,  "Noo  baud  ye  content, 
And  I  will  be  back  lang  afore  it  is  dark, 
And,  my  certy,  I'll  buy  ye  a  braw  woolen  .sark, 
And  I  ha'e  uae  doot  it  will  ease  ye  and  mend  ye 
So  live  ye  in  hope,  and  may  heaven  defend  ye." 

Her  thoughts  were  unsettled,  and  sair  on  the  rack, 
As  she  breisted  the  brae  and  gaed  doon  the  sheep-track. 
She  gaed  into  the  shop  and  said,  "  Mr.  McFee. 
For  your  life  hurry  up,  man,  and  wait  upon  me, 
Our  Tammie's  a'  wrang — he's  awa  frae  his  wark, 
And  ance  errant  I've  come,  man,  to  buy  him  a  sark." 
He  showed  ner  .some  black  anes,  she  cried  in  a  crack, 
*'  Get  awa  wi"  your  black  anes — I  winna  hae  black  I 

What  I  want  is  a  sark  just  as  white  as  the  snaw. " 
Quo'  Robbie,  "  The  white  anes  will  no'  do  ava, 
There's  some  that  are  red — they're  the  best  that  I  ha'e  ; 
Wi'  finger  uplifted  these  words  she  did  say — 
"I've  seen  living  sheep,  and  I  have  seen  dead  anes, 
But,  Mr.  McFee,  I  have  never  seen  red  anes  ; 
Ye  may  brag  o'  your  red,  and  your  black,  and  your  blue. 
But  there's  nane  o'  them  a'  like  the  natural  woo." 


.11 


0 

(in 


:   i 


It 


II 


w. 


y\ 


il'  Wii 


126 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


CONSOLATION  REJECTED. 

One  day  Tibbie  Rintoul  was  cleaning  np,  and  hIio 
liad  her  whole  house  in  a  state  of  confounded  confusion. 
About  mid-day  anld  Willy  Rintoul,  her  good  man,  en- 
tered with  a  pair  of  spectacles  on  the  bridge  of  his  nose. 
He  cried  out,  "Tibbie,  is  the  dinner  ready?"  and  im- 
mediately fell  headlong  among  a  lot  of  pots  and  pans. 
At  this  juncture  Tibbie  was  on  her  knees  scrubbing  out 
the  porridge  pot  with  a  heather  ranger,  and  quoth  she, 
"  Dear  rae,  Willy,  ha'e  ye  broken  onything  ?  "  "  Dear 
me,"  quoth  he,  "  I  am  more  than  sure  that  I  ha'e  broken 
baith  ray  legs."  "  Dear  me,"  quoth  she,  "  everything 
is  mixed  wi'  mercy.  It  might  have  been  worse.  Ye 
ought  to  be  thankfu'  that  ye  didna  break  your  neck." 
"  Thankfu',"  quoth  Willy,  "  I  wadna  shed  a  solitary 
tear  if  I  saw  baith  you  and  your  infernal  pots  and  pans 
sunk  in  the  deepest  dens  o'  Yarrow." 


NEVER  MARRY  A  WIDOW. 

Donald  Handyside  is  a  stone  mason,  and  a  married 
man,  and  James  Cobb  stands  ready  to  testify  to  the 
truth  of  the  following  narrative.  On  account  of 
something  going  wrong  with  the  links  of  his  back  and 
the  lappets  of  his  lungs,  Donald  was  unable  to  lift 
either  hammer  or  mell.  He  applied  to  a  doctor,  who 
gave  him  outward  and  inward  applications,  which  scat- 
tered his  ailments  like  the  morning  mists  before  the 
rising  sun.  He  went  home  and  found  his  wife  lying 
snug  in  bed  about  11  o'clock  a.  m.  He  cried  out  to  her. 
"  O,  Rachel,  I  ha'e  grand  news,  and  I  will  give  ye  the 
CAidence,"  and  with  this  he  began  dancing  the  High- 
land fling.  When  he  concluded,  Rachel  said:  "O, 
Donald,  I  was  beginning  to  lose  a'  hope  o'  ye,  but  it 


SKKTCIIRS    AND    ANECDOTES. 


127 


disiiii'  do  to  cast  a\v;iy  the  cog  when  tlie  cow  flings. 
Now,  wIk'I)  your  life  ajtjicars  to  be  prolonged,  and,  if 
ony  thing  should  hai»|t('n  to  nic,  never  marry  a  widow 
unless  lier  first  man  was  hanged." 


HETIV  IJLAIR'S  COURTSHIP. 

Away  in  Rcrwiiksliin-,  iit  a  pliUf  they  ca'  Driikemirc, 

In  the  year  eiglitrcii  {'orty-iiinc, 
There  lived  a  maiden  fair,  and  her  name  was  Betty  Blair, 

And  T  thouiilit  that  IJetty  was  divine. 

Doon  beside  the  water  edge,  'neutli  tlie  bonuic  hawthorn  hedge 

I  said,  "My  <larling  Betty,  dear, 
(),  will  you  marry  me,  and  fill  my  heart  with  glee 

Afore  the  wintry  iiionths  draw  near'.'" 

81ie  turned  away  her  head,  "Oh,  no,"  my  Betty  said 

"You  can  never  upon  me  prevail. 
You  live  in  Edenrraw,  and  you've  neither  house  nor  ha', 

A  frying  pan,  a  pot,  or  a  pail." 

Then  I  said,  "sweet  Betty  Blair.  Oh,  you  lill  me  wi'  despair, 

My  bosom,  how  il  throbs  with  commotion, 
If  you  will  not  take  the  ring,  my  body  I  will  fling 

From  the  brow  (>f  .St.  Abb's  to  the  ocean  ! 

"  When  in  the  deep  blue  sea,  Oh,  my  love  I'll  dream  of  thee. 

How  you  tilled  my  true  heart  with  wounds  ; 
But  afore  that  I  do  this,  I  may  tell  you  of  my  bliss. 

My  grannie's  left  me  ten  hunder'  pounds  ! " 

Vou  have  all  seen,  1  tiuppose,  the  dew  drop  on  the  rose. 

On  the  viohtt.  ami  the  lil}'  meek. 
But  you  never  saw  the  tear  tliat  did  instantly  appear 

Like  a  pearl  on  her  rosy  check  I 

Then  she  said,  "  My  love,  my  pet,  I  deeply  do  regret 

That  1  tilled  up  your  heart  with  sorrow  ; 
All  that  I've  got  to  say,  we  now  will  name  the  day. 

My  providing  will  be  ready  by  to-morrow." 

And  now  I'm  free  from  care,  for  I  married  Betty  Blair  ; 

And  my  cup  rs  tilled  with  delight, 
For  we've  got  a  little  elf,  just  the  picture  of  myself. 

And  it  squalls  every  hour  o'  the  night. 


|0 


I 


128 


SKETCHES    AXD    ANECDOTES. 


Ir 


A  STOUT  HEART. 

My  respected  auld  Grannie  lived  doon  at  Rigfit, 
And  she  had  a  strong  share  o'  auld  niither  wit, 
Whatever  transpired  she'd  ca'  up  the  auld  say,  man, 
"  Aye  put  a  stout  heart  unto  a  steep  brae,  man." 

John  Duflf  broke  his  leg  somewhere  'bout  his  knee, 
She  put  on  her  specs  and  'quo  she,  "  Let  me  see, 
John  Duff,  tak'  advice,  and  no  look  sae  wac,  man, 
Aye  put  a  stout  heart  unto  a  steep  brae,  man. 

"  'Twiid  been  worse,  oh,  John  Duff,  if  yo  had  got  a  crack, 
That  had  broken  your  neck  or  the  banes  o'  your  back, 
Sae  just  be  content  in  your  bed  ye  maun  stay,  man, 
And  put  a  stout  heart  unto  a  steep  brae,  mim." 

Meg  Dods  was  a  lass  baith  bonnie  and  braw. 
She  got  married,  but  haith  her  guidraan  ran  awa, 
Quo  Grannie,  "  He's  aff  to  the  deil  his  ain  way,  mem, 
Meg  !  put  a  stout  heart  unto  a  steep  brae,  mem. 

"  It  might  ha'e  been  worse,  some  day  or  some  night, 
He  might  taken  a  stick  and  felled  ye  outright ; 
O'  ills  choose  the  least,  be  glad  he's  away,  mem. 
Touts  !  put  a  stout  heart  unto  a  steep  brae  mem." 

Rab  Dow  lost  his  coo,  .she  loupd  over  the  linn, 

Quo'  Grannie  to  Robin,  "  Hout  ne'er  fash  your  tin, 

If  it  had  been  your  wife  ye  might  groan  night  and  day, 

man, 
Rab  !  put  a  stout  heart  unto  a  steep  brae,  man. 

"  A  coo  is  a  brute,  but  a  wife  is  a  wife, 
Ye  might  ne'er  get  another  a'  the  days  o'  your  life  ; 
A  far  bettor  coo  ye  may  e'en  get  this  day,  man, 
Sae  put  a  stout  heart  vmto  a  steep  brae,  man." 

But  Grannie  fell  sick,  she  was  wearin'  awa, 
And  the  minister  cam'  to  lay  (h>on  the  law  ; 
A  chapter  he  read,  then  expounded  a  text. 
But  Grannie  lay  calinl}'  and  nae  ways  perplex'd. 

At  length  slie  spoke  out,  "  I  have  heard  what  ye  said  ; 
I  ken  I'm  maist  ready  for  shovel  and  spade  ; 
But  ae  thing  consoles  me — my  hope  and  my  stay,  man, 
I  aye  put  a  stout  heart  unto  a  steep  brae,  man." 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


129 


Now  Grannie  slwps  sound  'neath  the  lone  willow  tree. 
And  the  thought  o'  her  aft  brings  the  tear  to  my  e'e  ; 
She  waA  canty  and  kind,  she  needs  uue  defender, 
Folk  liked  her  the  mair  the  mair  that  they  ken'd  her. 

I'll  ne'er  see  her  mair,  but  I  set  up  a  stone. 
Wi'  her  name  and  her  age  chisel'd  neatly  thereon, 
And  I  added  the  words  that  she  liked  weel  to  say,  man- 
"  Aye  put  a  stout  heart  unto  a  steep  brae,  man." 


BRING  THE  CAMPHOR. 

I  have  received  a  great  number  of  communications, 
in  which  the  writers  display  a  great  weakness  of  mind. 
They  vainly  endeavor  to  brow-beat  me  out  of  the  strong 
ground  I  took,  some  two  weeks  ago,  against  their  evohi- 
tion  balderdash.  Though  ignorance  prevails,  yet  wisdom 
still  flings  its  banner  to  the  breeze.  Nature  has  drawn 
dividing  lines  between  the  species.  According  to  "Gold- 
smith's Animated  Nature  "  a  canarv  has  never  become  a 
crow.  If  mv  canarv  began  to  crow  I  would  break  its 
neck  and  fling  it  into  the  back  yard.  Did  any  of  Shake- 
speare's sons  or  daughters  evolve  and  make  their  mark? 
Did  Washington's  sons  carry  the  hod  up  the  hill  of 
fame?  No,  for  this  simple  reason,  that  he  had  none. 
If  ray  blinking  .illc.j  will  turn  to  Job,  xl,  18,  they  will 
find  that  the  Behemoth's  "bones  are  as  strong  pieces  of 
brass ;  his  bones  are  like  bars  of  iron."  Now,  at  this 
date  the  Behemoth  ouglit  to  be  as  large  as  the  city  hall, 
and  if  ho  had  not  become  extinct  he  would  have  been  a 
valuable  addition  to  oui*  "  Detroit  ^Museum  of  Art."  I 
have  the  toothache.  I  do  not  desire  to  be  pestered  with 
any  more  of  those  letters.  Let  us  have  peace — peace  on 
earth  and  good  will  among  men  and  women.  Martha, 
ray  dear,  bring  the  camphor. 


'  J 

■'C 

*l0 


1 


1^ 


■< 


I 


13U 


!     J 


H 


HKKTCIIKS    ANT)    ANKCI>OTKS. 


THE  MlLLKliS  i>Ar<JIITKH. 

O,  Liiriuncrmoor,  your  iiltn.-i  iiiid  dells. 

Y(mr  licjithcliul  hills  uii  cvi'iy  liiiiid. 
Your  wiiuliiii;  stiTiiius,  y(')u:'  crystal  wells 

i'rocliiim  you're  nature's  favor'd  laud. 

In  yonder  ^len,  clean  out  o'  inhid, 
Has  stood  our  vllla.uc,  sae  romantic, 

Its  match,  I'nj  sure,  yell  fail  to  lind 
On  either  side  o'  the  Atlantic. 

Frae  'miiug  the  hills  the  wimling  Dye 
Glides  on  and  on  wi'  ijjladsoine  !j;1e,e  ; 

There  cahnly  like  a  child  she'll  lie 

'Neath  ha/el  bunk  and  s|)readin^  tree. 

By  Crauirie-glen  she  winds  aiang, 
To  Millwood  braes  she  Iiums  Ijer  .i^reetini, 

Mnir  pleasing,  sweeter  is  her  san^ 

When  wi'  the  water  Watch  she's  meeting. 

On  Whinrig  braes  how  aft  I've  strayed. 

Where  grow  the  ash  tree  aiid  the  rowan. 
And  there  beneath  tiieir  sheltering  shade 

Sweet  bloom  the  primrose  and  the  gowan. 

There  grow  the  brume,  the  briar,  the  yew, 
Wi'  scented  breath  the  air  perfuming. 

The  cowslip  and  the  violet  blue, 
The  lily  meek  and  imassuming. 

When  gloamin'  folds  her  wings  above. 
Then  comes  the  soft  enraptured  hour. 

The  hour  that  lovers  fondly  love 
To  tell  their  tale  in  yonder  bower. 

Or,  wandering  by  the  winding  Dye, 
Or,  lingering  in  the  silent  grove. 

To  vow  the  vow.  and  heave  the  sigh. 
And  whisper  in  the  ear  of  love. 

Oh,  love  I  the  befit,  the  chiefest  bliss. 

The  greatest  boon  to  mortals  given, 
I  trow  the  smile,  the  tender  kiss, 

Are  foretastes  of  the  joys  of  Heaven. 


SKKTCIIES    AND    ANECDOTKS. 


131 


Tin;  Dye  glides  past  the  uuld  nK'iil-iiilIi;; 

How  oft,  I'v.'  hcjird  its  clunkin-,'  cIuhi'i, 
And  K'lowcr'd  \vi'  wonder  iit  tin-  wlicol, 

As  out  and  in  the  wuk-rs  sjilasji  — 

And  tiintldi- dooii  wi'  miglit  and  tnai!i, 
And  jaw  and  J.ip,  and  jouck  and  jcvcl  ; 

Sync  prove  wliaf  saircs  can  explain. 
Tliat  water  aye  will  tin<l  its  level. 

Oil.  weel  I  mind  tiie  nnller's  Iia'. 

Hut  better  still  tiie  miller's  daiighler  ; 
ISlie  was  baitli  honin'e.  I)lytli  and  braw, 

And  moido  a  lad  in  vain  had  sou.^dit  her. 

Sweet  blooms  the  rose  at  early  morn, 
Its  fragrance  tills  the  balmy  air, 

Its  blush,  it.s  bloom,  her  cheeks  adorn— 
She  was  the  fairest  of  the  fair. 

When  simmer  danced  upon  I  he  hills, 
She  was  beloved  and  loved  again 

Hut  'fore  the  winter  fro/.e  the  rills 
Death  came  and  claimed  her  a"  his  ain. 

Sic  grief  was  never  ken'd,  I  ween. 

By  auld  and  young  this  grief  was  shar'd 

They  deck'd  her  in  her  bridal  siieen, 
And  laid  her  in  the  auld  kirk-yard. 

At  eve  how  sweet  the  blackbirds  sing, 
Their  sangs  re-echo  'mang  the  bra(.'s  ; 
Their  sangs  to  recollection  bring 
J  ij.  builod  joys  of  other  day*. 

My  Ellen  sleeps  her  long,  last  sleep, 
And  none  are  left  so  fair  as  she  ; 

Aboon  her  gravt-  the  willows  weep, 
Oh,  weary  heart.  Oh.  wae  is  me. 


HAVE  YE  GOTTEN  ANY  sILLER  ? 
When  Rodeiick   Bowhill   iviiohed  mairs  estate    his 
father,  to  lend  him  a  helping  hand,  rented  a  farm  and 
placed  him  upon  it,  near  tiie  base  of  the  Cheviot   hills. 
Matters  went  on  smoothly   for  a   time,  but  in  the   long 


IM 


!  i: 


132 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


i' 


run,  Roderick  felt  a  want  about  the  house.  After  mature 
deliberation  he  made  up  his  mind  to  procure  a  wife.  He 
also  made  up  his  mind  that  when  he  got  her,  if  reproof 
was  needed,  he  would  reprove  her  very  mildly  and  cor- 
rect her  with  great  caution.  A  number  of  farmers* 
daughters  were  anxious  to  get  a  hold  of  Roderick,  as 
they  knew,  and  their  mothers  knew,  that  whoever  got 
him  would  get  a  good  down-sitting.  But  regarding 
these  matters  it  is  no  use  in  beating  about  the  bush,  for, 
after  a  short  courtship,  he  got  married  to  Janet  Part- 
ridge, who  was  about  his  own  age,  and  who  had  good 
manners  and  a  fair  complexion.  Shortly  after  the  wed- 
ding, Roderick,  being  a  dutiful  son,  and  being  in  need 
of  cash  to  buy  Janet  a  silk  gown  for  Sundays,  paid  his 
parents  a  visit  who  received  him  with  kindness,  and  his 
mother  eagerly  incjuired  how  her  daughter-in-law  was 
getting  along.  "  Mother,"  cried  Roderick,  "  she  is  an 
angel  !  She  can  milk  the  cows,  skim  the  milk,  ca'  the 
kirn,  make  the  cheese  and  sell  the  butter,  make  the  beds 
and  darn  the  sarks,  and  can  ea'  the  cats,  dogs,  hens  and 
«wine  out  at  the  door  \vi'  a  vengeance.  My  patience, 
mother,  no  man  can  know  wliat  it  is  to  get  a  good  wife 
till  he  gets  one.  Mother,  she  is  like  the  bee,  she  works 
houev  from  everv  flower.  Now,  as  a  dutiful  wife  ouijht 
to  be  encouraged  wi'  a  present  now  and  again,  I  wad  like 
to  ken  if  ye  ha'e  gotten  ony  siller  in  your  stockin-fit '? " 


WHAT  ARE  YE  DOING  HERE  ? 

John  Dalziel,  a  Canadian  surveyor,  some  years  ago 
penetrated  into  what  he  considered  an  uninhabited  dis- 
trict at  the  head  o'  Lake  Superior.  lie  was  more  than 
astonished  when  he  cam'  upon  a  cleararice,  and  a  man 
wha  had  on  a  Tarn  O'  Shanter  bonnet,  and  a  pair  o'  breeks 


m 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


133 


made  oot  o'  the  Rob-Roy  tartan.  Quo'  he,  "  What  in  a' 
the  waria  are  ye  doin'  liere?"  Quo'  he,  "I'm  knockin" 
doon  trees  and  fechtin'  wi'  bears  and  misquitoes." 


JEANIE'S  COMIN'. 

Caledonia  !  land  of  the  glen  and  the  mountain, 
Land  where  the  thistle  waves  proud  o'er  the  plain, 

Land  of  the  streamlet,  the  lake  and  the  fountain; 
O,  to  be  back  to  thy  mountains  again  ! 

'Mang  thy  heathery  braes  the  lark  sings  sae  cheerie, 
Ilka  dell  rings  wi'  nature's  sweet  sang, 

The  mavis  and  blackbird  never  grow  weary 
A-singin'  sae  blithesome  the  sinmxer  day  lang. 

Aft  I  ha'e  wander'd  adown  by  the  plantin', 
That  leads  to  the  glen  where  ripples  the  Dye  ; 

Aft  I  ha'e  listen'd  the  bonnie  birds  chantin'. 
As  if  ilka  ane  wad  in  melody  vie. 

There  the  hazel,  the  slae,  and  the  red  cheekit  rowan, 

O'ershadows  the  primrose  adown  in  the  dell; 
Sweet  on  the  haugJi  grow  the  cowslip  and  gowan, 

And  Scotia's  ain  tlower— the  bonnie  blue  bell, 
'Twas  there  by  the  Dye  wi'  Jeanie  I  parted, 

As  the  sun  stole  awa  yont  the  distant  Mayshiel, 
Cheerless  the  future,  amaist  broken  hearted. 

How  fondly  I  said  "dearest  Jeanie,  fareweel." 
Now  I  am  far  frae  the  land  o'  the  heather. 

But  Jeanie  ..ill  „ome  o'er  the  wide  rolling  main, 
Jeanie  and  simmer  will  come  baith  thegether. 

And  the  winter  o'  care  I  will  ne'er  see  again. 


A  MERCIFUL  DISPENSATION. 
Some  young  men  are  very  [(articular,  and  some  are 
very  slothful  and  slovenly.  John  Younger  was  very 
orderly  in  consequence  of  iiaving  the  phrenological  organ 
of  order  sticking  out  of  his  head  like  a  ram's  horn. 
One  night  he  called  upon  his  sweetheart,  and  after  he 
left  she  says  to  her  mither,  "  JMither  it  was  a  merciful 
dispensation  of  Providence— that  I  had  my  hair  combed." 


134 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


I''' 


IS  YOUR  HONOR  A  PRIEST  ? 

[Inscribed  to  John  MrOREOon,  Esq.,  Detroit.] 

About  the  beginning  of  the  present  century  there 
was  born  in  the  Gorbals  of  Glasgow  a  boy,  whose  father's 
name  was  John  Mclndoe,  a  wheel-wriglit  by  trade,  and  a 
man  who  possessed  a  considerable  share  of  general  infor- 
mation.    In  his  leisure  hours  he  studied  mathematics, 
but  getting  tired  of  it,  he  turned  his  attention  to  chem- 
istry and  became  a  warm  admirer  of  Dr.  Priestly,  a 
great  polemical  and  philosophical  dissenting  clergyman 
and  author.     As  soon  as  the  boy  was  ripe  and  ready  to 
be  baptized  he  was  carried  to  church,  and  in  honor  of 
the  phil(»sopher  he  was  named  Priestly  Melndoe.     In 
course  of  time  Priestly  grew  up,  and,   like  his  father 
before  him,  learned  the  trade  of  wheel-making.    He  was 
a  general  favorite  among  his  companions;  had  a  free  and 
easy  way  of  his  own,  and  instead  of  calling  him  Priestly, 
they  cut  his  name  down  to  "  Priest,"  and  he  became  so 
accustomed  to  this  designation  that  he  would  have  con- 
i^idered  it  strange  if  they  had  called  him  by  any  other 
name.    In  course  of  time  Priest  also  got  married,  and  he 
became   the   father   of   several   children.     One  day  he 
went  home  to  his  wife,  and  he  said,  "Mary,  my  dear,  I 
have  made  up  my  mind  to  throw  down  the  hammer,  I 
have  sworn  a  deadly  oath   that  I  will   never  make  or 
mend  another  wheel  in  Scotland."     "  Preserve  us  a' ! " 
cried  she,  "  Priest,  what  in  a'  the  world  has  got  into  ye. 
Ha'e  ye  lost  a'  the  sense  that  nature  has  endowed  ye  wi', 
or  are  ye  only  speaking  for  speaking's  sake ? "     "Mary, 
my  dear,"  said  he,  "  I  am  in  down-right  earnest.     I  ha'e 
made  up  my  mind  to  gang  to  America,  and  the  sooner 
tliat  your  mind  is  made  up  to  gang  alang  wi'  me  the 
better  it  will  be  for  a'  concerned."    "  Weel,"  quo'  Mary, 


SKETCflES    AND    AX K«  DOTES. 


135 


"  I  am  willing  to  gang,  and  when  we  are  baith  in  tho 
Rame  mind  the  better  it  will  be  to  soon  set  out  on  onr 
travels."  After  this  conversation  they  sold  off  all  their 
effects,  and  bidding  farewell  to  all  their  friends,  they 
took  passage  in  a  sailing  vessel  from  the  Clyde  that  was 
V>ound  for  America.  After  the  usual  tossing  up  an(i 
down  on  the  broad  Atlajitic,  Priest  and  his  family  landed 
safely  at  Quebec,  and  after  a  tedious  land  journey  they 
eventually  settled  down  in  the  pleasant  town  of  Peter- 
boro,  in  Upper  Canada.  Here  Priest  met  many  of  his 
old  friends  and  companions  that  had  previously  emi- 
grated, and,  being  of  a  jovial  disposition,  I  am  sorry  to 
state  that  he  became  somewhat  fond  of  the  flowing  bowl. 
He  had  been  on  what  is  vulgarly  called  "a  burst"  for 
several  days,  and  on  going  up  the  street  whom  should 
he  meet  but  Jimmie  McPhail,  a  distant  relation  on  his 
mother's  side,  and  whom  he  had  not  seen  for  some  years. 
Jimmie  had  also  a  cargo  of  whiskev  aboard,  and  when 
the  two  met  they  were  in  such  high  feather,  and  so  glatl 
to  meet  with  one  another,  that  they  began  daTicing  tlic 
Highland  fling  on  the  public  thoroughfare.  After  this 
they  adjourned  to  tlio  public  house  to  wet  their  whistles 
and  have  a  comfortable  crack  about  Auld  Lang  Synt\ 
There  they  sat  and  sat  and  drank  one  another's  hoaltii 
till  the  dead  hour  of  midnight.  At  length  Priest  said, 
"Jimmie,  let  us  gang  hanu-  and  see  Mary.  Man,  she 
will  be  glad  to  see  ye  ;  but  afore  we  gang  we'll  ha'e  ;< 
red  herrin'  apiece  and  another  dram.  Landlord,  bring 
tis  twa  red  herrings  and  anotlier  half  mutchkin."  These 
were  brought,  and  after  they  were  disposed  of  tlu-y  paid 
the  reckoning,  which  took  the  last  cent  that  was  in  their 
pockets.  The  two  then  started  on  their  journey,  and 
they  had  gone  only  a  short  distance  when  Priest  said, 


■ 
1 

i 

'    i; 


'I 


1^ 


^! 


136 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


"  Oh  dear  me,  man  Jiramie,  that  red  herrin'  has  made 
me  extraordinary  dry,  as  sure  as  I  am  livin'  I  wad 
gi'e  a'  the  world  for  a  bottle  o'  Prestonpan's  Table- 
beer."  "  I'm  unco  dry  mysel',''  <iiio'  Jimraie,  "  but  I 
doubt  we'll  ha'e  to  content  oursel's  wi'  a  waught  o' 
Adam's  wine,  seeing  tliat  it  is  far  on  in  the  night  and 
our  siller's  a'  done."  "Aye,  aye,"  quo'  Priest,  "'folk  maun 
pit  up  wi'  mony  hardships  and  inconveniences  in  this 
wretched  world,  but  there's  ae  thing  that  I  am  sure  o* 
and  that's  no  twa,  t*hat  I'll  choke  lang  afore  I  get  hame, 
and  if  ye  get  hame  afore  me  just  tell  Mary,  wi'  my 
kindest  regards,  that  I  died  frae  the  effects  o'  eating  a 
Glasgow  magistrate.  But  mercy  on  us  a',  Jimmic, 
Providence  is  kinder  to  us  than  we  deserve,  for,  as  I 
have  a  soul  to  be  saved,  there's  a  light  in  that  window. 
I'm  sure  it  is  a  public  house  ;  Ave'll  gang  in  and  see  if 
they'll  no'  take  mercy  upon  us."  On  saying  which  the 
two  entered,  but  their  consternation  may  be  imagined 
when  they  saw  a  woman  lying  in  bed  in  the  agonies  of 
death,  and  a  number  of  friends  and  relatives  gathered 
round  to  see  her  draw  her  last  breath.  This  melan- 
choly scene  had  the  effect  of  sobering  the  two  worthies, 
and  although  they  knew  no  one  in  the  house,  they  had 
the  common  decency  to  sit  down  and  act  as  if  they  had 
come  to  pay  a  friendly  visit.  Thus  they  sat  for  some 
time.  At  length  Jimmie  said,  in  a  loud  whisper, 
"Priest,  it  is  time  to  go."  "  Well,"  said  Priest,  and  they 
both  rose  up  to  go  quietly  away.  Now,  the  husband  of 
the  dying  woman,  who  was  an  Irishman,  overheard 
this  conversation,  and  he  tapped  Jimmie  on  the  shoulder 
and  said,  "Sur,  may  I  be  bowld  enough  to  ask  if  his 
honor  is  a  priest  ?  "  "  That  he  is,"  said  Jimmie,  as  he 
gave    Priest   the    wink,  "  but  he  is  at  present    out   of 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


137 


holy  orders,  on  account  of  taking  a  drop  too  much." 
"  Bedad,"  said  Patrick  McGuire,  for  that  was  the  Irish- 
man's name,  "  that  fault,  if  fault  it  may  be  called,  lies 
at  many  a  good  fellow's  door ;  your  raverence,"  he 
continued,  turning  to  Priest,  "  will  ye  plase  look  at  my 
dying  wife,  glory  be  to  God,  savin'  yere  worship's  pres- 
ence ;  she  is  going  fast,  and  not  more  than  an  hour  ago 
our  own  priest  has  given  her  absolution."  On  hearing 
this.  Priest  heaved  a  deep  sigh,  and  advanced  to 
the  bed  where  the  sick  woman  was  Iving.  lie  re- 
quested  her  to  show  her  tongue,  and  then  he  gently  felt 
the  pulsations  of  her  wrist,  and  then  he  turned  to  Pat- 
rick McGuire  and  the  rest  of  the  company,  and  said  : 

"  Radamanthus,  husky,  niingo, 
Horner,  hipock,  jinko,  jingo, 

this  woman  is  sick,  but  as  sure  as  the  sun  will  rise 
to-morrow,  she  will  get  well  and  rise  from  her  bed,  and  be 
the  mother  of  many  more  children."  These  remarks  so 
tickled  the  fancv  of  the  dving  woman  that  she  could  not 
resist  giving  a  sort  of  hysterical  laugh.  On  hearing  which 
a  great  load  came  off  the  mind  of  Patrick  McGuire,  and  he 
flung  his  hat  up  to  the  ceiling,  and  skipped  with  joy  up 
and  down  the  floor.  He  then  went  up  and  looked  at  his 
wife  and  said,  "  Be  my  sow),  darlint,  sure  ye're  not 
going  to  lave  us  ;  by  the  Holy  St.  Patrick,  his  raver- 
ence, the  blessed  priest,  says  ye  will  yet  be  the  mother 
ave  raanv  more  childer." 

Curious  to  state  that  from  tliat  hour  the  sick  woman 

began  to  rally,  and  the  lamentations  of  that  house  were 

turned  into  joy.     The  bottle  was  set  on  the  table,  and 

Priest  and  Jimmie  took  a  good  swig  of  its  contents,  and 

then  wished   all  and    sundry    good-night.     After    this 

adventure.  Priest  felt  so  ashamed  of  his  conduct  that  he 
10 


c 


o 


138 


SKETCHES    AXD    ANECDOTES. 


never  tasted  another  drop  of  drink  till  his  dying  day. 
About  a  year  after  Priest's  midnijifht  visit  to  Patrick 
McGuire's  house  he  was  passing  it  one  <iay,  and  the  last 
named  individual,  with  great  kindness,  requested  hira  to 
step  in,  to.  which  request  Priest,  with  good  will,  complied. 
There  he  saw  Mrs.  MeGuire  with  a  tine  child,  a  few 
weeks  old,  in  her  arms.  MeGuire,  with  paternal  fond- 
ness, pointed  to  the  child,  and  then  turned  to  Priest  and 
sai''  :  "  Please,  sur,  what  is  ycr  raverences  name  ? " 
L".  which  question  Priest  gave  a  ready  answer.  "Now, 
belli  )wurs,"  cried  Patrick,  "one  good  turn  desarves 
another,  imv\  that  spalpeen  shall  be  culled  Priest  Mclndoe 
31<'Guire."  'IMius  was  the  union  of  Ireland  and  Scot- 
land 111  JVC  iic'  1y  cemented  by  the  representatives  of 
these  two  kingdoms. 


A  POOH  INVESTMENT. 

Jean  .Johnson  was  a  spinster, 
And  she  span  in  the  nud-niill. 

And  I  have  heard  Roh  Howden  say 
She  span  wi'  mickle  skill. 

Although  her  wages  were  but  sma' 

Yet  she  did  act  discreet, 
And  with  frugality  she  made 

The  tongue  and  buckle  meet. 

She  had  a  lad,  but  he,  alas  I 
Was  to  the  kirkyard  carried, 

And  for  liis  sake  she  vowed  a  vow 
She  never  would  get  married. 

Though  many  a  lad  cam'  seeking  for 
Her  heart  and  hand  to  gain, 

She  told  them  that  in  singlene.sss 
She  ever  would  renutin. 

They  tried  her  with  the  sweetest  words 
That  from  the  tongue  could  tlow 

But  "yes"'  fell  never  from  her  lips  ! 
Her  answer  aye  was   '  no." 


8KETCUES    AXD    ANECDOTES. 

Now  all  these  lads  tried  other  grounds 
Losh  !  how  they  were  elated 

When  they  with  perseverance  all 
Like  turtle  doves  were  mated. 

Jean  lived  out-ower  in  a  cot-house 

Alang  wi'  her  auld  niither, 
And  baith  the  twa  did  aye  their  best 

To  'gree  weel  wi'  ilk  ither. 

But  Jean,  alas,  fell  unco  sick, 
And  couldna  move  her  feet, 

But  by  my  faith  she  didua'  want 
For  neither  meal  or  meat . 

Her  fellow  workers,  ane  and  a'. 

A  helping  hand  they  lent  it.  ' 
They  bought  poor  Jean  a  stitch  machine. 

And  quick  to  her  they  sent  it. 

When  it  cam"  hame  the  auld  wife  cried, 

I  think  we  should  refuse  it, 
For  oh,  my  poor,  poor  helpless  bairn 

Has  got  nae  strength  to  use  it." 

Wi'  this  Rob  Howden  raised  his  voice, 
And  then  he  spoke  fu'  crouse, 

"  Tuts,  baud  your  tongue,  I'm  sure  it  will 
Come  handy  'bout  the  house." 

This  tale  is  told  with  words  o'  truth. 

And  truth  needs  no  defense, 
With  the  design  to  show  some  folk 

Have  very  little  sense. 

It  makes  me  just  as  mad's  a  haw 

Whene'er  I  think  about  it; 
I'm  unco  sure  had  I  been  there 

Some  lugs  I  wad  ha'e  clouted. 

If  they  had  bought  Jean  something  more 

In  keeping  wi'  her  need, 
I'd  sung  their  praises  far  and  wide 

And  wished  them  a'  "  God  speed." 


1S9 


=H 


1^ 


ii!  I! 


I 


'!! 


/'■ 


140 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


MUD  AND  DUST. 


In  the  year  aughteen-hundcr  and  aughty-nine,  and! 
on  the  twintyeth  day  o'  September,  I  met  ma  auld  friend 
John  Wardlaw  on  the  streets  o'  London,  Ontario,  in  a 
most  deplorable  condition.  Now,  John  was  born  in ' 
Edencraw,  a  toon  on  the  borders  o'  Scotland,  and  one  o* 
his  ancestors  went  to  the  battle  field  o'  Dunbar  to  fight 
against  Oliver  Cromwell,  when  an  auld  wife  handed  his 
name  doon  to  posterity  by  exclaiming  : 

' '  They're  a'  there,  tliey're  a'  there — 
There's  John  Wardlaw  on  his  mare." 

I  took  John  by  the  hand,  and  quo'  I,  "John,  where 
on  a'  the  earth  ha'e  ye  been  ?  "  "  Been,"  quo'  John,  "  I 
ha'e  been  doon  to  Toronto  at  the  exhibition,  and  I  gat 
my  claes  a'  covered  wi'  glaur  and  my  mouth  filled  fu'  o' 
stour,  and  when  I  gat  there  I  gacd  into  a  tavern  to  get 
a  glass  o'  whiskey,  and  quo'  I  to  tlie  barman,  wha 
happened  to  be  a  Scotchman,  *  Is  that  whiskey  guid  ? ' 
'  I  dinna'  ken,'  quo'  he,  *  but  they're  a'  drinkin'  awa'  at 
it.'  Then  I  gat  into  a  pitched  battle  regarding  annexa- 
tion, and  the  animal  rippit  ma  coat  straught  up  the 
back,  and  I  lost  ma  umberella,  but  I  faund  it  again. 
Now,  I  ha'e  come  to  the  conclusion  that  bairns  below 
sax  years  auld  and  men  and  women  aboon  fifty,  should 
never  venture  mair  than  half-a-mile  awa  frae  their 
hames.  '  I  dinna  ken  what  ma  guidwife  will  say  when 
she  sets  her  e'en  on  me,  but  ae  thing  I  ken,  it  is  a  mercy 
I  faund  ma  umberella  to  keep  the  storm  off."  We 
parted,  and  as  we  parted  I  was  readj'^  to  exclaim,  in  imi- 
tation of  Sir  Walter  Scott : 


"  O,  woman,  when  our  coats  are  torn, 
We  wish  that  we  had  ne'er  been  born." 


-    SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


141 


THE  WOODEN  LEG. 

In  Melroso  liv'd  a  minister. 

A  man  o'  portly  frame, 
"VVha  pray'd  and  preached  in  Melrose  Kirk, 

John  Tamsou  was  his  name. 

Upon  a  Sunday  afternoon, 
Laird  Douglas  thus  did  say — 
"Come,  Mr.  Tam.son,  come  wi'  me, 
And  tak'  pat-luck  this  day." 

"Aweel."  quo'  he,  "Fll  gladly  gang, 
'Twill  gi'e  me  muckle  pleasure, 
But  'fore  we  start,  sir,  you  must  know. 
We'll  ha'e  to  walk  at  leasure. " 

Now,  to  give  point  to  this  remark, 
He  said,  "Laird,  laird,  I  beg." 

He  said  nae  mair,  but  shook  his  head 
And  pointed  to  his  leg. 

The  reason  he  did  thus  and  thus, 

Let  it  be  understood. 
He  had  twa  legs,  but  ane  o'  them, 

Wae's  me,  was  made  o'  wood. 

If  I  should  cudgel  u^)  my  brains 

Frae  mornin'  sun  till  night, 
I  couldna'  tell  if  his  wood  leg 

Was  either  left  or  right. 

Now,  Mr.  Tamson  and  the  Laird 

Gaed  saunterin'  aff  fu'  crouse, 
And  inside  o'  an  hour  they  gain'd 

The  Douglas  mansion  house. 

The  lady  there,  wi'  kindly  smiles, 

The  minister  accosted  ; 
And  soon  they  a'  paid  their  respects 

Unto  the  boiled  and  roasted. 

The  Laird  belanged  to  the  auld  school— 

A  kindly  crackin'  body. 
And  when  the  dishes  were  remov'd 

He  cried,  "  Bring  ben  the  toddy." 


id 

n. 


i  :' 


J 


III 


l^ 


i 


142 


SKETCHEB    AND    ANECDOTES. 


Now,  bdith  thelwa  could  tuk'  their  dram, 

Or  ait)lins  could  tak'  twa, 
But  ne'er  were  kent,  like  drunken  brutes, 

Aside  tbeir  chair  to  fa'. 

John  Tamson  spiik'  'bout  Robert  Peel, 

Bout  sliding  scules  and  corn  ; 
Wi'  this  the  Laird  cried,  "I've  a  mear 
Nae  better  ere  was  born. 

"  My  certy  !  she's  the  grandest  mear 
That  ever  wagged  a  tail ; 
Her  match  I'm  sure  ye'd  fail  to  lind 
In  France  or  Tevoitdale. 

"  Afore  the  darksome  night  sets  in, 
Sir,  sir,  I'll  no  think  shame, 
To  yoke  up  Peg,  and  by  my  faith, 
I'll  quickly  drive  ye  harae. 

"  'Twill  gi'e  me  unco  great  delight 
To  let  you  see  her  paces, 
As  I  intend  to  enter  her 
Next  week  at  Kelso  races." 

Now,  in  the  gig  the  Douglas  Laird 

And  minister  are  sittin', 
And  in  the  trams  Peg  snooves  alang 

As  canny  as  a  kitten. 

At  length  the  Laird  cried  oot  to  Peg, 
'Come,  Peg,  my  lass,  get  up." 

He  touches  her  aboon  the  tail 
And  then  he  cracks  his  whup. 

She  gave  a  jump,  she  gave  a  spring, 

Then  dashes  oflf  forthwith, 
She  gets  her  lugs  upon  her  neck, 

And  bits  atween  her  teeth. 

Fast,  fast  flew  she,  fast  and  mair  fast, 

As  if  she'd  never  tire, 
While  frae  her  heels,  and  frae  the  wheels, 

Flew  sparks  o'  living  fire. 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


143 


At  length  slic  ga'o  a  fearful  stencl, 
NVIiirr,  wliiir,  tlic  gig  play'il  pitcli. 

Mercy  !  the  Laird  and  minister 
Flew  Iicadiang  in  Die  ditcli. 

1-()m1»  !  wives  and  men  I  liave  lieard  .siy. 

For  twa  dead  men  mistooji  tliem. 
At  length  tlicy  opened  up  their  eyes, 

And  wildly  glowered  aboot  them. 

The  Laird  eried,  "Mr.  Tanison,  sir, 
Have  ye  seen  aught  o'  Peg  ?" 
"  Xa,  Laird,"  (pio'  he,  "  but  hue  ye  seen 
Auglit  o'  my  wooden  leg  ?" 


FLEVKN  COM.MANDMENTS. 

Galloway,  .situated  on  the  slioresof  tlie  Solway  Firtli, 
i.s  one  of  the  most  .seeluded  and  romantic  districts  in 
Scotland.  In  the  days  of  the  persecution  the  Cov- 
enanters there  found  refu<re  in  the  glen  and  the  cave,  to 
commune  with  one  another,  to  worship  unmolested  the 
C4od  of  heaven,  and  to  mourn  over  a  broken  covenant. 

There's  nae  Covenant  noo,  lassie  ! 

There's  nue  Covenant  noo  ! 
The  .Solemn  League  and  C9venant 

Are  a'  broken  through  I 

In  the  time  of  the  Commonwealth,  and  reign  of 
Charles  II.,  the  Rev.  Samuel  Rutherford  was  professor 
of  moral  philosophy  in  the  University  of  Edinburgh- 
But,  becoming  tired  of  the  cavils  and  contentions  that 
then  existed  in  the  Scottish  capital,  he  made  up  his 
mind  to  retire  from  his  professorship  and  become  minister 
of  Anwoth,  Galloway,  not  far  distant  from  the  scene  so 
beautifully  described  in  Lowe's  matchless  lyric,  "  Mary's 
Dream  "  : 


c 

in 


I  ii 


1(1 


SKKT<^IIKS    AVI)    ANKCDOTES. 


I    i 


"Tlic  moon  had  climbed  the  higliost  hill, 
Wiiicli  rises  o'or  tlu;  sourco  o'  Dee, 
And  from  the  <;ist(.'rn  summit  shed 
IltT  silver  light  on  tower  and  tree." 

TluMV,  far  away  from  thr  Haimting  town,  M 
liutliorford  found  that  repose  which  ho  desired,  and  touw 
a  Ljreat  interest  in  administerinj^  to  the  spiritual  wants 
c»f  his  rural  tloek.  While  not  thus  enu^aged  he  exei-- 
cised  his  mind  in  the  eomposition  of  a  learned  work 
a.L^ainst  Armenianism,  entithd,  *' Exereitationes  de 
Gratia,"  and  another  jtopular  work  entitled  "  Ruther- 
fcM'd's  Letters,"  which  to  this  day  is  f(Mind  in  the  win" 
dow-soles  of  the  peasantry  of  Scotland,  side  by  side  with 
"Baxter's  Saint's  Rest,"  "Boston's  Four-fold  State," 
and  other  books  of  a  religious  nature. 

In  those  days,  in  consetjuence  of  the  wretched  state 
the  roads,  and  no  })ost  offices  ever  thought  of,  men  Oi 
I'.'tters  had  few  or  no  opportunities  of  communicating 
with  one  another.  From  these  causes  it  became  a  ctis- 
t  )m  among  the  learned  to  make  long  pilgrimages  for  the 
purx)Ose  of  exchanging  views  on  the  questions  of  the 
day  and  seeing  one  anotlier  face  to  face.  As  an  instance 
of  this  we  have  it  on  record  that  "  Rare  Ben  Jonson  " 
forsook  his  London  haunts  and  traveled  to  Scotland  for 
the  purpose  of  meeting  the  poet  Drummond  of  Haw- 
thornden.  When  they  met,  Drummond,  it  is  said, 
received  him  with  great  kindness  and  exclaimed  : 

"  Welcome,  welcome  royal  Ben," 
Ti>  which  Jonson  immediately  replied, 

"  Thank  ve,  thank  ye,  Ilawtliorndeu." 

On  a  beautiful  morning  in  spring  a  sturdy  beggar 
Avas  wending  his  way  through  the  wild  solitudes  of  Gal- 
loway.    On  reaching  the  abode    of    the  Rev.   Samuel 


8K  ETCH  KS    AND    A  N  KCDdTKS. 


145 


frrar 


Riitlierfonl,  ho  in<|uir('<l  of  Mrs.  llutlii'i-ronl  if  the  min- 
i>tt'rwas  at  home.  To  which  t|iH'>«lion  she  ma<l«'  aiifiwer 
that  her  hiishaiul  would  not  he  home  till  latt'  that  cvon- 
Iiil;.  Slu',  h(j\vt'V('r,  fh'sircil  liim  to  step  into  tho  kitchen. 
Mrs.  Rutlicrfonl  may  be  <k'sciil)iMl  as  a  Lrarnilous  nianaL,'- 
ing  woman — a  kind  of  jirototype  of  tlie  stroni;-niin<ltd 
women  of  the  present  day.  Although  she  looked  upon 
the  beggar  with  some  degree  of  mistruHt,  not- 
withstanding she  set  before  him  some  scraps  of  victuals 
and  ordered  him  "  to  fall  to  and  eat  ami  be  thankful  for 
the  mercies."  The  beggar  laid  aside  his  l)onnet  and 
commenced  to  eat  with  a  keen  relish,  as  his  long  walk 
among  the  mountains  had  no  doubt  sharpened  his 
ap])etite.  When  his  plate  was  empty  he  held  it  out  to 
IMrs.  Rutherford,  and  on  replenishing  it  slie  muttered  to 
herself,  "  I  muckle  doot  that  wandering  vagabond  will 
eat  us  out  o'  house  and  ha',  l>ut  jioor  creature, 
he  has  mavbe  seen  better  d.ivs  and  lias  a  soul  to  be 
saved  like  the  rest  o'  us."  After  the  stranger  had  tinishe<l 
his  repast  Mrs.  Rutherford  put  a  few  questions  to 
him  regarding  where  he  had  come  from  ant]  where  he 
was  going,  but  received  no  satisfactory  answer;  there- 
fore she  betook  herself  to  her  household  duties  and 
laughed  in  her  sleeve  as  slie  thought  of  the  old 
proverb  that  tlie  beggar  was  as  wise  as  Wudsie's  calf 
"  that  dinna  ken  milk,  frae  water."  The  beggar,  now 
being  left  alone  sat  down  in  a  corner  an<l  fell  fast  asleep. 
He  slept  on  and  on,  till  tlie  shades  of  evening  began  to 
fall.  Mrs.  Rutherford  now  became  somewhat  alarmed 
at  the  non-arrival  of  her  husl)and,  an<l  being  all  alone 
in  the  house  slie  began  to  entertain  the  notion  that  the 
beggar's  absence  would  be  good  company.  As  he  sat  in 
the  corner  she  ever  and  anon  eyed  him  with  suspicion, 


11  ' 


TT 


146 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


If 


but  her  foar  was  relieved  by  tlie  arrival  of  some  neigli- 
borinjj:  (children,  who  liad  come  for  the  purpose  of 
answering  their  weekly  questions  and  to  receive  relig- 
ious instructions  from  theii-  ])astor.  "  Bairns,"  said  she, 
"  the  minister  is  no  at  hame,  but  T  will  tak'  it  on  mysel' 
to  be  your  teacher  this  nicht.',  On  saving  this  she  went 
up  to  the  beggar  and  roared  out  to  him,  "  Wauken  up 
this  precious  moment  and  be  questioned  on  poiiits  of 
faith  alang  wi'  tbe  children."  With  this  the  beggar 
opened  his  eyes  and  looked  around  him  like  one  dum- 
fouTulered,  then  he  arose  and  did  as  desired. 

The  minister's  wife,  still  thinking  that  she  had  some 
poor,  half-witted  wanderer,  thought  it  best  to  handle 
him  gingerly,  an<l  jtut  some  (juestions  to  hira  as  the 
meanest  capaciiy  might  satisfactorily  answer.  She  there- 
fore inquired  of  him  "  How  many  conmiandments  are 
there  '?"  To  which  he  immediately  answered  "  Eleven." 
"  Poor  man,"  said  she,  "  Ye  are  deplorably  ignorant,  it 
is  heart-rending  to  think  that  such  ignorance  can  be 
found  in  this  Christian  country;  an<l  the  best  thing  you 
can  do  is  to  gang  to  your  bed  in  the  garret  and  ye  will 
see  Mr.  Rutherford  in  the  morn  in'."  Mrs.  Rutherford 
then  conducted  him  to  his  quarters,  which,  it  appears, 
was  immediately  over  the  room  where  Mr.  Rutherford 
slept.  The  beggar  iuAvardly  rejoiced  at  this,  as  he 
strongly  desired  to  hear  the  learned  divine  offer  up  his 
evening  prayer  to  the  God  of  all  ! 

Mr.  Rutherford  at  length  reached  his  home,  and 
from  some  cause  or  another,  Mrs.  Rutherford  thought  it 
fit  not  to  inform  him  that  a  stranger  was  in  the  house. 
The  minister  after  partaking  of  some  slight  re])ast,  be- 
ing tired  and  jaded  out,  retired  early  to  rest.  The  beg- 
gar patiently  listened  till  the  dead  hour  of  midnight  to 


1f 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES.  I47 

hear  the  sound  of  the  minister's  voice,  but  listened  in 
vain.     He  then  began  to  pray,  and  tlie  astonisliment  of 
Mr.  Rutherford  may  be  imagined  as  he  lay  entranced, 
and  heard  one  of  the  most  earnest  and  devout  i)rayers' 
that  ever  fell  from  the  lips  of  a  human  being!     While 
this  prayer  was  progressing  Mrs.  Rutherford l^lurabered 
^  and  slept,  but  on  its  conclusion  he  exclaimed  with  bated 
^breath:     "This  is  either  an  angel   from   Heaven,  Satan 
turned  saint— or— Archbishop  Usher  !  " 

The  night  passed  away  and  the  sun  ushered  in  the 
Sabbath  morning  thus  poetically  described: 

The  morning  sun  glints  up  ayont  the  hill; 

The  misty  clouds  of  morn  have  fled  away. 

Calm  is  the  pool,  the  sky  serene  and  still, 

The  lark,  exultant,  chants  his  early  lay. 

The  joyful  birds  sing  biythe  upon  (he  sprey, 

The  wings  of  peace  are  spread  o'er  hill  and  lea, 

This  is  the  sacred,  holy  Sabbalh  day. 

From  toil,  this  morn,  the  husbandnian  is  free, 

From  blissful  rest  he  wakes,  to  bow  to  God  the  knee. 

At  the  dawn  of  day  the  beggar  rose  from  his  humble 
bed  and  shortly  afterward  quietly  stole  out  of  the  house. 
He  had  only  gone  a  short  distance  and  appeared  wrapt 
in  deep  meditation  when  a  haiul  was  laid  on  his  shoulder. 
On   turning  round  he  said:     "Sir,  although   we    have 
never  met,  I  know  that  you  are  Mr.  Rutherford."     To 
which  the  latter  made  ^.ws^svv,  "I  know  that  vou  can  be 
none  else  but  Archbishoj.    I'sher."     Thus  ,lid   the   two 
greatest  and  most  eloquent  divines  of  that  century  meet 
in  the  wilds  of  Galloway  !     The  Arehbishop  explained 
to  Mr.   Rutherford  that  he   had   certain   reasons   of  his 
own  in   coming  to  meet   him  in  disguise,  and    begged 
that  his  secret  might  be   kept.     "  But   how  can  that  be 
done,"  replied  Mr.  Rutherford,  "as  nou  must  prea.di  for 


i 

lid 
in 


!■  '' 

1 

t\ 

1 

:^ 

) 

1 

( 

N  1 


.11 


:!1;v 


^1 


148 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


me  this  day  ? "  "  What  would  j'our  people  think," 
exclaimed  the  Archbishop,  "  when  they  saw  a  beggar 
mount  the  steps  of  the  pulpit?  "  "  That  can  be  easily 
arranged,"  was  the  answer.  "  Mrs.  Rutherford  I  have 
no  doubt  is  still  asleep,  and  I  will  forthwith  go  back  to 
tlie  house  and  bring  vou  a  suit  of  rav  clothes,  which  in 
the  quietude  of  the  glen  you  can  easily  exchange." 
Til  is  arrangement  was  accordingly  entered  into,  and 
M'hen  the  time  came  the  Archbishoj)  occupied  the  \)u\- 
pit,  and  Mr.  Rutherford  and  his  wife  sat  together  in  the 
})ew.  At  the  conclusion  of  the  prayer  the  Archbishop 
gave  out  the  text,  "  A  new  commandment  I  give  unto 
you,  that  ye  love  one  another,"  and  Mrs.  Rutherford 
looked  with  astonishment  at  the  man,  and  she  thought, 
^'  This  is  an  answer  to  the  question  I  put  to  the  poor 
beggar  last  night."  The  preacher  illustrated  his  text  by 
referring  to  Joseph  and  his  brethren  and  the  injunction 
given,  "  See  that  ve  fall  not  out  bv  the  way,"  and  wound 
up  with  the  divine  peroration.  "  All  men  shall  know 
that  3''e  are  my  disciples  if  ye  love  one  another." 

At  the  conclusion  of  the  discourse  Mrs.  Rutherford, 
who  was  troubled  with  the  curiosity  of  her  sex,  could 
■contain  herself  no  longer,  but  whispered  into  the  ear  of 
her  husband,  "  That  surely  canna  be  the  idiot  that 
slept  in  the  garrit  last  night  !  " 


WHAT  HE  BAGGED. 

We  had  two  fine  conical  hills  in  our  parish,  and  one 
Irishman  of  independent  means.  One  day  l^e  took  his 
shooting  bag  and  gun  and  went  up  to  the  top  of  one  of 
these  hills.  AVhen  he  came  down  his  wife  inquired  if 
he  had  bagged  anything?  "Be  jabers,"  said  he,  "AUie, 
I  have  bagged  a  sevare  cowld." 


SKETCHES    AXD    ANECDOTES. 


149 


THE  WASHING-DAY. 

One  morn  my  wife  saluted  me, 

And  thus  and  thus  did  say: 
"You'd  better  take  your  dinner  out, 

As  this  is  washing  day. " 

A  tear-drop  trinkled  down  my  cheek, 

And  I  cried,  "  Woe  betide  ! 
I  fear  I'll  have  no  appetite 

Unless  you're  by  my  side." 

I  caught  her  in  my  loving  arms. 
And  when  our  four  lips  parted, 

With  trembling  hand  I  took  my  stick, 
And  down  Bagg  street  I  started. 

When  time  had  struck  twelve  doleful  sound 

Upon  the  city  bell, 
I  sallied  out,  and  soon  I  found 

A  very  fine  hotel. 

1  looked  around  and  tliere  and  then 

J  found  an  empty  chair, 
And  then  a  maid,  with  dove-like  eyes, 

Gave  me  her  bill  of  fare. 

I  meditated  on  the  list, 

My  mind  was  in  a  doubt. 
At  last  I  said,  "  1  think,  my  dear, 

That  I  will  take  some  trout." 

When  I  had  tinislied  trout  and  tea, 

The  maiden  brought  some  pie; 
She  )«aid:  "Sir,  down  upon  the  floor 

Has  fallen  your  necklie. " 

She  picked  it  up,  then  to  my  band 

She  pinned  it  with  a  pin; 
My  very  heart  leaped  to  my  mouth 

Wlien  I  held  up  my  chin. 

She  smiled  so  sweet,  that  quick  as  thought 

She  went  from  me  away; 
Alas!     She  stole,  she  stole  my  heart 

Upon  the  washing-day. 


'■j '  fit ' 

% 

If 


II 0 


150 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


LOVESICK. 

George  Miller  was  an  unmarried  exciseman,  and  who 
resided  in  Dalkeith,  Scotland.  He  fell  over  head  and 
ears  in  love  wi'  a  lass  wha  resided  in  a  distant  county. 
Her  image  was  forever  before  him,  and  he  got  into  such 
a  disordered  state  of  mind  that  he  even  forgot  to  sup  his 
porridge.  He  longed  and  he  yearned  to  see  her,  and 
clasp  her  in  his  fond  embrace,  but  how  to  obtain  leave 
of  absence  was  beyond  his  comprehension.  At  last  he 
fell  upon  a  plan.  He  got  a  pipe  and  an  ounce  of  tobacco, 
and  he  blawed  and  he  blawed  till  he  made  his  loving 
heart  shiver  and  shake.  He  then  went  to  the  doctor, 
M'ho  granted  him  leave  of  absence  on  account  of  heart 
disease  and  mental  derangement. 


FALSE  HISTORIANS. 

Innumerable  blunders  have  crept  into  "Histories" 
and  the  "  Lives  of  Men."  In  probing  these  blunders 
to  the  bottom  I  have  been  frequently  tempted  to 
exclaim  with  David  of  old,  "that  all  men  are  liars." 
In  proof,  it  is  set  down  in  black  and  white  that  John 
Hogg,  the  schoolmaster  of  Lasswade,  was  never  mar- 
ried. I  can  prove,  without  the  shadow  of  a  doubt,  that 
he  was  married,  and  that  his  wife's  maiden  name  was 
Peg  Maitland,  and  that  she  was  a  spinster,  and  more 
than  that,  that  she  was  born  and  brought  up  in  the 
parish  of  Traquair.  If  tradition  is  to  be  believed,  John 
Hogg  and  Peggy  were  very  unequally  yoked.  One  day 
he  said  to  her,  "  Peg,  when  I  eloped  with  you  I  was 
more  than  sure  that  ye  would  prove  an  auxiliary  or 
helping  verb;  instead  of  that  ye  have  proved  to  be  an 
adversative  conjunction."  "  What's  that  ye  say  ?  "  cried 
Peg.     "  It  was  an  ill  wind  that  blew  ye  in  my  direction, 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


151 


but,  my  certy,  the  lad  I  ought  to  have  had  was  banished 
to  Botany  Bay.  My  certy,  I  wadna  hae  gi'en  his  little 
tinger  for  your  whole  body  and  bones,  and  your  boots 


and  breeches  thrown  into  the  bargain." 


A  FREAK  OF  NATURE. 

In  Yetliolni  town  lived  Dr.  Raird, 
Who  prcfuliLd  lor  many  a  day, 

And  'niong  the  gypsies  did  his  Ix-st 
To  point  and  lead  the  way. 

'Though  they  were  an  ungodly  raee. 

Yet  he  would  ne'er  desert  them, 
But  to  his  latter  end  he  strove 

To  teacli  and  to  convert  them. 

At  times  he  thought  he  liad  them  ri^^ht. 
And  then  he  would  assert  it— 

That  all  that  he  could  say  or  do 
They  would  not  stay  converted. 

They'd  donkeys,  and  at  early  morn 
Their  brayiugs  were  so  great 

As  made  the  very  hills  and  dales. 
And  glens  reverberate. 

Now,  'bout  these  roars  on  weekly  <iays 

He  made  no  observation, 
But  on  the  Sabbath  day  he  deemed 

Them  fearful  desecration. 

He  gatliered  all  the  gypsies  round, 

And  with  a  solemn  face. 
He  said  that  these  unearthly  sounds 

Were  naught  but  a  disgrace. 

He  charged  them  that  on  Saturdays, 

As  soon  as  day  was  gone, 
To  every  donkey's  tail  forthwith 

They  must  su.spend  a  stoue. 

This  plan  was  tried  with  grand  results, 

And  it  does  me  astound 
That  donkeys  cannot  roar  whene'er 

Their  tails  point  to  the  ground  ! 


I 

fid 

n 


t  '11 


m 


152 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


1^ 


ROUSE  HIM  UP !    ROUSE  HIM  UP 


The  village  of  Denholra  is  situated  in  the  bonnit* 
border  land,  and  which,  by  the  way,  is  the  birthplace  of 
the  late  Dr.  John  Leyden,  the  great  linguist  and  friend 
of  Sir  Walter  Scott.  One  Sunday  there  was  a  ripple  in 
the  bosoms  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  village.  The  Rev. 
John  Johninan,  a  strange  minister,  was  to  preach,  and 
his  great  fame  had  surged  before  hira.  The  congrega- 
tion met.  The  day  was  very  hot  and  oppressive,  as 
heavy  and  sulphurous  puffs  of  warm  winds  came  down 
from  the  Lammermoor  hills.  Mr.  Johnman  proceeded 
with  his  sermon,  but  it  was  not  long  till  the  people 
began  to  nap,  dose  and  nod,  and  knock  one  another's 
elbows  into  one  another's  ribs.  Mr.  Johinnan  observed 
this,  and  he  looked  at  an  old  man  who  sat  beside  an  old, 
blinking  wife,  and  he  cried  down  to  her,  "  Rouse  him 
up  !  Rouse  him  up  !  "  On  hearing  this  the  old  female 
sinner  roared  out  at  the  top  of  her  voice,  which  roused 
the  whole  congregation  :  "  I  canna  do  that,  sir,  for  he 
has  been  stone  blind  for  the  last  forty  years." 


JOHN  AND  WILL. 

Both  John  and  Will  were  born  and  bred, 

And  schooled  on  Scotland's  strand; 
Tlieu  they  took  ship  and  sailed  away 
Unto  Columbia's  land. 


'I 


Now  .John  went  east  and  Will  came  west 

And  settled  in  our  street, 
And  he  was  just  as  kind  a  man 

As  one* would  like  to  meet. 

I  kenned  him  weel  and  in  our  cracks 

He  often  spoke  'bout  .John, 
And  often  wondered  where  he  was 

And  how  he  got  along. 


■r 


SKETCHES    AXn    ANECDOTES 


158 


as 


Year  after  yan  had  conu'  and  liane 

And  'fore  tlie  twa  did  know  it, 
Witliout  a  warnini:-  word  tlicsc  friends 

Forgatiiered  in  Detroit. 

Will  opened  wide  his  mouth  and  cried 

•'John,  Jiow  is  it  a'  wi"  ye, 
Where  lia'e  ye  I/een  ?  _i,niid  iruidc;  us  ,i 

Man:     I  am  glad  to  see  ye." 

Tliere  is  an  error  tliat  prevails 

Broadcast  o'er  many  lands— 
That  a  drop  drini<  lulls  cauldriff  care, 

And  tiiiiitens  friendship's  bands. 

(^uo'  John  "  O,  Will,  we've  met  once  men': 

And  by  John  Barleycorn, 
And  auld  lang-  syne,  come,  come  awa, 

And  faith  we'll  ha'e  a  horn." 

They  sat  and  sat  ard  better  sat 

Until  the  stars  shone  bright: 
Then  Will  cried  out,  "  C(jme,  John,  mv  fricMid, 

And  stay  with  me  tliis  night. 

O.  John,  O,  John,  I'm  glad  we've  met 

To  crack  'bout  days  bygajie, 
The  sight  o'  you  cheers  up  my  lieart, 

And  makes  me  young  again," 

And  then  they  went  along  the  street. 

And  wow,  l)ut  they  wore  fain. 
Until  they  missed  their  feet  and  plung'd 

Head-foremost  in  a  drain. 

Quo'  Will,  "  This  is  Tib  Dugdale's  drain, 

I  doubt  my  ribs  are  broken ; 
Next  morn  I'll  lay  a  plea  'gainst  her 

For  keeping  her  drain  open." 

Quo'  John  "  for  pleas  I  dinna  care. 

But  Will,  with  joy  I'd  shout 
If  Tib  would  come  around  wi'  speed 

This  lu'ght  and  Ijail  me  out  " 
11 


lid 


1 


1 

t 

t 

I'i 


i 


154 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


HALF-HA.NGED  MA.GGY  DICKSON. 


"  I  will  tell  of  ane  wondrous  tale 
As  ever  was  told  by  man, 
Or  ever  was  sung  by  minstrel  meet, 
Since  this  base  world  began," 

— Jamm  Hogg. 

FiKherrow  is  situated  pn  the  banks  of  the  Firth  of 
Fortli,  some  few  miles  distant  from  the  city  of  Edin- 
burLfh.  It  is  a  wretched,  dilapidated  village,  and  is  prin- 
cipally inhabited  by  fishermen  and  their  families.  They 
are  a  peculiar  people,  antiquated  in  their  habits  a?jd 
superstitious  in  their  notions  ;  so  much  so  that  they 
would  consider  it  a  crime  to  act  contrary  to  the  customs 
that  have  been  handed  down  to  them  from  time 
immemorial.  Tliey  marry  and  inter-marry,  and,  as  a 
general  rule,  they  are  rude  in  speech  and  uncultivated 
in  manners.  They  are,  however,  an  industrious  class — 
the  fishwives  in  particular,  who  are  in  the  daily  habit  of 
carrying  large  baskets  of  fish  upon  their  backs  to  Edin- 
burgh, and  there  singing  out  in  clear,  ringing  tones, 
*'  Wha'll  buy  my  caller  baddies  ?  "  Lady  Nairne,  Scot- 
land's sweetest  poetess,  well  describes  this  custom  in  one 
of  her  lyrics — 

Wha'll  buy  my  caller  herrin'? 
They're  bonnif!  fish  and  halesome  farin'; 
Wha'll  buy  my  caller  herrin', 
New  drawn  frae  the  Forth  ? 

Tibbie  Dickson  was  a  fishwife,  and,  for  aught  I 
know  to  the  contrary,  she  was  bred  and  born  in  F'sher- 
row.  She  lived  in  the  early  part  of  the  last  century, 
and  was  a  remarkable  woman  in  more  ways  than  one. 
She  was  fretjuently  in  the  gross  habit  of  turning  up  her 
little  finger — that  is,  tossing  off  a  horn — and  when  she 
got  a  number  of  these  she  was  in  the  custom  of  yelling 


i1 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


155 


ht     I 

iiry, 

one. 

h  her 


she 


11 


m 


g 


and  bawling  loud  enough  to  waken  the  very  dead  in 
their  graves.  On  these  occasions  the  young  people 
would  gather  round  her  in  crowds  to  receive  a  rich  fund 
of  amusement  free  of  expense.  She  was  dauntless  in 
spirit,  and  feared  neither  the  face  of  man  or  woman, 
with  the  exception  of  the  minister.  One  day  Tibbie 
was  holding  forth  on  the  street  to  a  mixed  crowd,  in  an 
intoxicated  state,  when  she  happened  to  turn  up  her  eye 
like  a  hen  drinking  water,  and,  lo  I  she  saw  the  minister 
drawing  near.  She  became  instantly  as  pale  as  death, 
and  ran  as  fast  as  her  tottering  feet  would  carry  her 
to  her  own  house,  locked  the  door  and  sju-ang  into  l)ed 
to  await  results.  Shortly  aftei'ward  the  minister  ra})ped 
at  her  door,  and  Tibbie  bawle*!  out,  "  I'm  no  in  ;  I'm 
awa  oot  wi'  the  baddies  I "  Now,  the  minister,  who 
was  somewhat  of  a  humorist,  cried  through  the  key- 
hole, "  Ah,  Tibbie  !  Tibbie  I  ye  are  trying  to  cheat  me, 
but  ye'll  no  cheat  Beelzebub."  "  And  wha  is  he,  I  wad 
like  to  ken  ?"  roared  Tibbie.  "  I  never  had  any  banter- 
ings  or  bargains  wi'  him,  I  trow.  Sae  gang  awa  wi'  yere 
clashmaclavers  and  tell  him  that  I  wiiina  be  back  till 
Sunday."  Here  Tibbie  gave  a  series  of  groans  and  she 
continued  :  "  I  wish  I  had  some  ane  to  rin  and  tell  the 
folks  that  I'm  lying  here  at  the  doors  o'  death  I  Mai^oy 
Maggy,  my  bonnie  bairn,  rin  awa  and  order  ma  coflln, 
the  whiskey,  and  the  burial  bread,  for  I'll  be  dead  this 
nicht  or  early  in  the  mornin'  !  " 

Now,  Tibbie  Dickson,  at  the  }>eriod  this  narrative 
begins,  had  a  daughter  whose  name  was  Maggy,  and  she 
was  remarkable  for  her  beauty,  when  it  is  taken  into 
account  the  kind  of  stock  she  sprang  from.  She  was  on 
the  verge  of  womanhood,  and  was  one  of  the  most 
notorious  randies  that  ever  ran  there  out.     There  was  a 


112 

lid 

n 


p 

■i 

'{i 

i 

'  f 

i 

\ 

1   ■ 

r 


IS  ^  / 


I  til 


■i 
4 


156 


.SKPnXHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


young  man  in  the  neigliljorhood,  the  son  of  a  small 
farmer,  who  took  a  great  fancy  to  ]Maggy  and  tried  to 
civilize  lier.  lie  even  went  so  far  as  to  oflFer  her  his 
hand  in  marriage,  but  she  opened  out  upon  him  a  per- 
fect torrent  of  abuse.  "Awa  out  o'  ma  sight,"  she 
cried,  "  ve  white-livered  Huke  I  ve  wretciied  son  o'  a 
planter  o'  cabbage  and  a  digger  o'  potatoes,  ^larry 
you  I  that  wad  be  a  marriage  wi'  a  vengeance  !  D'ye 
think  that  I  wad  marry  a  miserable  driver  o'  stots  and 
stirks  and  broken  doon  horses  !  Xa,  iia,  nane  o'  sic 
land-loupers  will  ever  wile  me  awa  frac  ma  mitlier  ;  the 
man  that  gets  me  maun  be  a  tisiierman,  bold  and  freo, 
that  is  able  to  sing  the  dredging  sang  and  (;ast  his  net 
in  Laro-o  Bav.  8ae  gang  vere  ways  oot  <j'  ma  sis>'ht,  ma 
bonnie  man,  and  seek  a  wife  amang  ycre  father's  bond- 
aiyers,  or  for  onv  thing  that  I  care,  \<'  may  oantr  and 
feed  wi'  tlie  geese  upon  the  links  o"  Musselburgh  !  " 
After  this,  my  informant  states  that  this  son  of  a  farmer 
pestered  Maggy  no  more,  but  went  to  seek  a  wife 
amongst  the  less  barbarous  of  her  sex.  Notwithstand- 
ing all  this,  Maggy  would  have  accepted  the  young 
farmer  had  she  not  been  previously  engaged  to  the  son 
of  a  butcher,  who  was  generally  known  by  the  name 
of  Flesher  Rab.  This  pair  were  married  in  due  course, 
and  Rab  took  up  his  quarters  in  the  house  of  his  mother- 
in-law,  and  they  lived  for  some  time  together  in  great 
disorder.  Rab  was  a  most  extraordinary  glutton,  and  it 
took  Maggy  the  best  part  of  her  time  to  cook  fish  and 
tlesh  to  appease  his  appetite.  At  length,  one  day,  when 
her  mother  was  absent  she  lost  all  patience,  and  she 
said,  "  Rab  !  I  ha'e  a  guid  mind  to  crack  this  frying-pan 
over  yere  skull.  Little  did  I  ken  when  I  married  you 
that  ve  could  eat  the  verv  gable  o'  a  kirk  !  I  am  fair 
sick. tired  wi'  boiling  and  frying  and  washing  plates  and 


SKETCHliS    AVD    ANECKOTKS. 


15  7 


p.aiiH,  and  running  to  MiisselbiirLrli  for  niair  meal.  Losh 
guide  us  a',  if  it  gae  ye  ony  satisfaction  it  \va<l  bo  nao- 
thing,  but  guid  keej)  me,  ye  are  nae  sooner  done  wi'  ae 
feed  o'  fish,  flesh  or  fowl  than  ye  are  ripe  and  leady  to 
begin  to  anotlier  cart-load."  While  these  remarks  were 
issuing  from  Maggy's  lij>s  Flesher  Rab  was  sitting  at  the 
table  with  a  saddh'  of  mutton  before  him.  He  looked 
up  at  his  wife  with  utter  astonishment,  and  then  he 
said,  "Maggy,  when  I  married  you  little  did  I  think 
that  it  wad  come  to  tliis  ;  tiie  man  that  is  buckled  to 
you  wad  be  far  better  dead  than  alive,  for  to  tell  ye  the 
universal  truth  ve  are  tit  enough  to  break  the  heart  o' 
an  undertaker.  How  do  you  expect  me  to  live  if  I 
dinna  get  ma  meat  ?  "  "  Live,"  cried  Maggy,  ''  if  ye 
live  muckle  langer  there  will  soon  be  a  famine  in  the 
land,  and  that  will  be  baith  seen  and  heard  tell  o'.  For 
my  part  I  dinna  care  a  snap  o'  ma  tinger  though  the 
breath  o'  life  was  oot  o'  you  this  very  moment.  Sae  ye 
can  gang  and  whistle  on  yere  thumb,  for  I  am  done  wi* 
ve  forever  !  " 

Flesher  Rab  understood  that  a  nod  from  her  was  as 
good  as  a  wink  to  a  blind  horse.  He  also  knew  the 
frailties  of  his  mother-indaw  ;  that  she  was  sure  also 
to  pour  the  vials  of  her  indignation  upon  his  head,  and 
rather  than  endure  the  lashings  of  her  tongue  he  would 
a  thousand  fold  prefer  to  stand  between  two  blast  fur- 
naces. So  without  anotlier  word  he  took  the  saddle  of 
mutton  and  tied  it  up  in  a  handkerchief  and  left  for 
parts  unknown. 

For  two  years  after  this  Maggy  plunged  recklessly 
into  every  kind  of  vice,  and  broke  the  moral  law  even  to 
the  nineteenth  degree.  One  morning  Flesher  Rab  was 
astonished  when  he  received  the  following  letter,  dated 


M 


i\l 


■   i; 


1 

l 
1 

i 

i 

^i 


•i 
i 

it 


1.58 


SKETf'HES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


"  Mlsselijuroh, ,  1728. 

PoHt  haste  to 

FU'shor  Hab, 
fare  of  Mr.  John  liull, 
Cattle  Feeder, 

New  C'uHtle-Upon  Tyne, 
Kiigland, 

Near  Scotland. 
Sir — I  lift  up  the  pen  to  h't  ye  ken  that  we  are  a* 
weel  and  that  your  wife  Magtjy  Dickson  is  to  be 
hanL-ed  for  bairn  rrnirder  in  the  Grass  Market,  Edin- 
burjLfh,  on  Maunenday  next  and  if  ye  can  spare  the  time 
ye  had  belter  come  down  and  see  her  lianged.  I  add 
nae  nwiir  but  remains, 

Y^ours  till  deth, 

TIIOS.  CLINKSGALES." 

This  letter  had  the  desired  effect,  for  the  day  before 
Maggy  Dickson  was  to  answer  for  her  crime,  Flesher 
Rab  made  his  appearance  in  Musselburgh  and  soon 
found  his  friend  Clinkscales,  who  kept  a  house  for  the 
"  entertainment  of  man  and  beast."  Next  day  the  two 
proceeded  to  Edinburgh  in  a  cart,  and  they  aaw,  as  they 
thought,  Maggy  Dickson's  earthly  career  brw.pfht  to  a 
final  termination  upon  the  gallows.  Flesher  Rnb  and 
his  companion  then  waited  upon  the  authorities  and 
received  the  dead  body.  They  placed  it  in  a  chest,  and 
then  in  a  cart,  and  then  drove  it  with  the  utmost  fury 
out  of  the  city.  When  about  half  w.ay  on  their  road  to 
Musselburgh  they  halted  at  a  way-side  public  house, 
leaving  the  horse,  cart  and  chest  with  its  contents  st 
ing  at  the  door.  They  remained  eating  and  'i'  nl  i 
of  the  devil's  punch  boM'l  till  their  heads  got .  .aicu 
darkness  began  to  set  in.  When  thev  canu  out  their 
astonishment  may  be  imagined  when  they  saw  M;  rgy 
sitting  bolt  upright  in  the  chest  !  Flesher  Rab's  hair 
stood  up,  his  nether  jaw  fell  down,  his  nostrils  dis- 
tended, his  throat  became  as  dry  as  a  linie-kiln,  his  eyes 


' 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


159 


rolled  in  their  sockets  and  glimmered  like  two  stars  of 
the  first  magnitude,  his  knees  smote  against  each  other, 
while  a  cold  })ers|)iration  oozed  out  from  every  pore  of 
his  body  !  At  len;;th  he  mustered  courage  and  cried 
out,  "Preserve  us  a' I  Maggy,  lie  doon  !  Do  ye  no 
ken  that  ye  are  hanged?"  Clinkscales,  however,  had 
more  gumjition  ;  he  seized  the  reins  and  drove  her  to 
the  nearest  doctor,  who  placed  her  in  bed,  and  by  dint 
of  certain  inward  drugs  aiul  outward  poultices,  in  a  few 
hours  she  became  as  lively  as  a  blackbird  on  a  A[av 
morning.  On  the  next  Sabbath  she  appeared  at  church, 
followed  by  a  great  concourse  of  people,  and  she  heaid 
the  minister  deliver  a  most  excellent  discourse  appli- 
cable to  her  case. 

For  some  years  after  she  kept  an  ale-house,  where 
many  resorted  to  see  her  and  birl  their  bawbees.  When 
(juestioned  regarding  her  experience  on  the  gallows,  she 
would  toss  her  head  and  say,  "Tuts,  hangin'  is  no  sae 
bad  as  what  it  is  ca'd — it's  muckle  cry  and  little  woo', 
as  the  tailor  said  when  he  sheared  the  soo.  I  didna'  feel 
unco  weel  when  I  drappit  wi'  the  rope  round  ma  thrap- 
ple,  and  whan  swingin'  backward  and  forward  like  the 
pendulum  o*  an  aught-day  clock,  but  when  I  got  used  to 
the  business  I  just  felt  as  if  I  was  fleein'  through  the 
air  on  the  tap  o'  a  pair  o'  bagpipes  to  the  tune  o'  "Guid 
nicbt  and  joy  be  wi'  ye  a'.'" 

There  is  an  old  Scottish  proverb  which  s.iys,  "  An  ill 
life,  an  ill  end,"  and  Maggy  Dickson's  life  well  illus- 
trates the  truth  of  it — for  I  have  no  less  an  authority 
than  Robert  Chambers,  who  states  that  "  in  spite  of  the 
awful  lesson  she  had,  Maggy  was  not  reformed,  but, 
according  to  the  popular  tradition,  lived  and  died  ayniu 
an  impenitent  pro'Higate  I  " 


II 


III'* 


\V 


0 


i' 


160 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


if 


■0 

I 


i 


THE  VVIFK  OF  LAMMEUMOOR. 

Ilnscribed  ti>  K.  S.  Greoe,  Esq.,  Detroit.] 

In  Laniniermcior  in  bv-gane  days, 
There  liv'd  a  herd  ca'd  Tanimie  Craze; 
A  better  name  niiulit  be  inserted, 
IJut  liistorv  must  not  be  perverted. 
His  fatlier  \vas  a  iierd  afitre  liim. 
But  to  tlie  kirkyard  fliey  had  bore  iiini. 
Folk  may  \\vv\)  and  rant,  ami  rav(.', 
But  they  ean  never  eheat  the  t;;ravc — 
For,  while  reek  rises  frae  the  lum, 
Folk  will  gang,  and  folk  will  come, 
But  nature's  work  is  never  dune. 
Pair  Tammie  tilled  his  father's  .shoon. 
His  mither  had  got  auid  and  stiff, 
Ae  nieht,  wae's  me,  she  took  a  tiff, 
And  as  the  daylight  reached  the  hills, 
And  sinimer'd  on  the  wimplin'  rills. 
Her  spirit  calmly  stole  away. 
To  hail  the  never  ending  day. 

His  mither,  Tammie  sair  lamented, 
He  daunder'd  round  like  ane  demented; 
While  feckly  dormant  were  his  senses. 
His  sheep  leaped  over  dykes  and  fences; 
But  Tammie  had  an  ancient  collie 
That  seemed  to  wonder  at  their  folly; 
Nature  instinctive  taught  this  dog, 
To  rout  the  .sheep  from  lair  and  bog, 
Wliich  plainly  showed  by  this  ability 
E'en  dogs  have  a  redeeming  quality. 

In  Tammie's  heart  grief  hatched  her  hrood. 
And  nursed  his  melancholy  mood; 
His  hopes,  his  pleasures,  all  were  tied. 
His  tho\ights  were  cradled  with  the  de;id. 
The  midniglit  echoes  heard  his  moan, 
He  lived  forsaken  and  alone; 
The  heather  round  him  fragrance  shed. 
The  lavrocks  lilted  'bune  his  head, 
The  blacki)ird's  notes,  so  sweet  and  clear. 
Fell  coldlv  on  his  listless  ear. 


m 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


161 


it 


The  doctor  tried  to  bring  relief, 

lie  oiil\'  added  grief  to  grief; 

The  minister  e'en  t(joii  occasion, 

To  case  him  of  his  tribulation; 

His  words  tliough  ortliodox  and  sound 

Just  fell  like  water  on  the  ground. 

Come  love  !  and  try  your  healing  ari, 

Come  I  cheer  up  Tammie's  drooping  heart. 

'Twas  in  a  bonnie  morn  in  ^Ia\' ; 
The  low'ring  clouds  had  passed  awa\ 
The  golden  sun's  effulgent  rays, 
Danced  tip-toe  on  the  hills  and  brae-;. 
This  day  when  Tainmie  was  abroad, 
He  saw  a  lass  on  the  fit-road, 
And  blythely  as  she  tripped  alang, 
She  liltit  ower  an  auld  Scotch  sang. 
She  was  a  charming  Scottish  lassie. 
Although  she  looked  a  wee  thought  saucy; 
Yet  this,  at  times,  in  women's  faces, 
Add  e.xtra  beauty  to  their  graces. 
Poor  Tamniie  glowr'd,  and  then  forsooth, 
His  heart  leai)ed  to  his  very  mooth. 
He  swithered,  then  he  stood  a-back, 
And  then  he  folhnved  on  her  track; 
His  leaden  eye  became  more  bright, 
His  heart  rebounded  with  delight. 
O,  how  he  loved  the  pretty  maiden; 
He  worship'd  e'en  the  ground  she  gaed  on  I 
Though  uninformed,  yet  I'll  l)e  bound, 
The  lassie  keekit  cannie  njund, 
I'll  wager  my  last  plack  upon  it, 
For  Tammie  she  had  .set  her  bonnet  ! 
I  trow  it  is  a  golden  rule 
To  never  tell  tales  out  of  school  ; 
But  truth  compels  me  to  relate, 
She  pitied  Tammie's  lonely  state; 
She  saAV  the  banc,  she  laid  a  plot 
To  l)ring  about  the  antidote  I 
And  here  I  miglit  as  well  mak'  mention, 
A  woman's  wit's  past  comprehension, 
Kout,  tout  I  a  man's  no  worth  a  chip, 
She  is  the  rudder  o'  the  ship. 


Q 


!P 


1^1 


162 


i:  l'^ 


II 


<il 


T 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


When  storms  arise  in  peace,  or  war, 

She  is  our  guiding  polar  star; 

^Vith  words  defiant  I  allege, 

She  is  the  key-stone  o'  the  bridge  I 

Although,  at  times,  we  may  misdoubt  her, 

'Twould  break  our  hearts  to  be  without  lier; 

'Tis  best  to  bear,  and  to  forbear, 

()'  ills,  I  trow,  she  has  her  share. 

Man  !  be  not  wayward  and  erratic, 

But  to  your  wife  be  symjjathetie; 

And  e'en  consider 't  a  disgrace 

To  cast  Eve's  blunders  in  her  face— 

The  application  here  I  clink 

A  nod  is  just  as  good's  a  wink; 

O,  who  would  prize  a  golden  crown, 

And  be  without  their  Jessie  Brown  ? 

They  liad  been  at  the  school  thegitlitr. 
They  were  acquainted  wi'  ilk  ither. 
When  bairns,  for  her  he'd  cull  the  ro\\;iP, 
And  pu'  the  primrose  and  the  gowan; 
Wi"  tiny  feet,  wi'  heart  o'  glee, 
He'd  chase  her  ower  the  lilly  lea, 
Love  lured  him  now,  Hope  was  his  guile; 
And  soon  he  stood  by  Jessie's  side; 
And  after  blushing,  scrai)ing,  cooing, 
The  twasome  brisklj'^  set  a-wooing  ! 

O.  Liimmermoor  !  amang  th\'  braes, 
How  happy  were  their  courting  days. 
There  by  the  bonnie  winding  Dye, 
They'd  watch  the  waters  rippling  bye; 
Or  in  the  glen  "mang  birkeu  bowers, 
They'd  while  away  the  golden  hours. 
The  very  twink'ling  stars  o'  night 
Shone  clear,  shone  more  than  doul)ly  brigb'. 
Though  tempests  hovvl'd,  though  leaves  wt-re  sere 
Wi'  them  'twas  summer  all  the  year  ! 
(),  happy  time  !  I  here  declare, 
No  joys  can  with  these  joys  compare — 
'Tis  meeting,  vowing,  kissing,  teasing, 
The  very  retrospection's  pleasing  ! 


if    ■i 


r 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


163 


I  here  pass  o'er  the  marriage  time, 
As  sma'  importance  to  my  rhyme. 
Tlie  honeymoon.  I  just  will  moot-  it ; 
Let  other  poets  jingle  'bout  it. 
A  woman's  trust  !  who  would  not  prize  it  ? 
Shame  fa'  the  man  that  would  despise  it. 
Women  !  our  patience  oft  they  tax  it, 
And  wi'  their  freeks  and  foibles  rax  it  ; 
Yet  this  I  learned  frae  my  ain  mither— 
That  "  J3airn8  should  'gree  wi'  ane  anither." 
This  saying  beats  the  Grecian  sages  ; 
'Twill  gatlier  strength  in  after  ages, 
When  devilish  hate  is  swept  -'way 
And  virtue  crowns  tJie  better  day  ! 

Upon  the  stepping-stanes  o'  time, 
This  pair  thus  stepi)it  to  their  prime  ; 
Their  wants  were  few  and  soon  appeas'd, 
They  strove  to  please  and  to  be  pleas'd. 
Ae  day  she  to  the  town  repairs 
To  purchase  twa  three  antrin  wares. 
A  word  I'll  venture  in  her  praise, 
She  coft  a  book  ca'd  "  Sliakespeare's  Plavs." 
Guidwife  !  your  bargain  ye'll  be  ruein';  ' 
Ye  little  ken  what  mischief's  brewin'; 
The  little  adverbs  '•  no  "  or  "yes  " 
How  they  can  make  or  mar  our  bliss, 
No  matter  in  what  light  we  view  tliem. 

How  often  bitterly  we  rue  them. 

Mischief  will  rise,  guid  guide  us  a'. 

Just  out  a  sma'  hole  in  the  wa'. 

On  grit,  on  woe,  on  hale,  or  lame, 

Grim  trouble  pounces  on  her  game. 

Jingle,  jingle,  grab  and  pingle. 

Trouble  seldom  ventures  single; 

Shoulders  narrow,  shoulders  l)rnad. 

Bend  your  back  to  suit  the  load  ! 

She  read  t!ie  i)ages  lale  and  ere. 
Where  every  passion  is  laid  bare; 
Where  every  one  may  trace  and  lind, 
The  workings  of  the'human  mind; 
Her  flag  of  knowledge  was  utifurl'd 
She  opened  up  another  world  ! 


0^ 


04 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


^:  I' 


'ii 
(I 


Tl»e  Dominie,  I  know  him  well, 
From  him  I  learned  tliese  words  to  spell, 
And  when  he  used  Ids  rod  o'  birclK.'n 
Ujjon  some  dull  (jr  wayward  urehin, 
Although  the  l>oy  was  tempest  toss'il, 
Ah  me  !  the  master  sulTered  most; 
Yet  at  each  tear  and  at  each  hollow, 
He  hoped  that  <,food  residts  would  follow; 
His  aim  was  error  down  to  trample, 
Both  by  his  precept  and  example. 
O"  lang-syne  tales  he  had  the  function 
To  lay  them  off  wi'  muckle  unction. 
Yes  !  at  the  crack  he  had  a  gift, 
Could  wile  the  lavrock  frae  the  lift ; 
And  though  his  wit  was  sharp  and  keen 
He  never  spoke  a  word  obscene. 
He  guided  youth,  he  counselled  age, 
He  snulfed  and  read  the  classic  page. 

He'd  wander  over  dale  and  liill, 
And  scenes  he'd  sketch  wi'  mickle  skill. 
One  day  he  entered  Tammie's  cot. 
From  Tammie  words  came  burning  hot; 
"Thomas"  he  said.  "  I  at  you  speir 
H'  man  or  wife  is  master  here  ?  " 
'J'hen  Tanunie  cried  "  without  a  doubt 
That's  wliat  I'm  trying  to  find  out. 
Master.  I'm  unco  proud  that  ye 
Should  come  and  visit  sic  as  me. 
]My  faith  we've  had  an  unco  racket- 
To  tell  the  truth  I'm  maisf  distracket. 
Come,  sir,  sit  doon  and  toast  your  taes. 
And  hear  my  catalogue  o'  waes." 
The  gu  id  wife  was  a  wee  thought  vex'd, 
And  'fore  the  master  stood  preplex'd; 
But  this  ;  h  '  tried  hard  to  dissemble, 
Although  iier  nether  lip  did  tremble. 
The  silent  tear  unbidden  came; 
She  trowed  it  a  black-burning  .shame — 
That  thus  her  faults  should  be  disclos'cl, 
And  'fore  the  master  stand  expos'<l; 
And  as  he  kindly  scan'd  her  face, 
Tammie  thus  opened  up  his  case: — 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


165 


"Master,  my  liciirt-stn'inrs  rug  mo  suir, 

I'm  on  the  hrink  o'  black  (Irspair  ! 

I've  got  an  unco  wayward  wife; 

She's  just  the  torment  o'  my  life, 

A  nee  in  a  day  she'd  stand  inspection— 

The  i.ink  and  [iattern  o'  perfection, 

Xae  belter  wife,  I  maun  eonfess 

In  Liinmiermoor  e'er  trod  the  grass. 

Ye  ('"(Ml  may  look  and  look  again. 

And  wonder  iiow  I  d.are  complain  ! 

She  w  inna  wash  the  veiy  dishes, 

She's  heedless  o"  my  wants  and  wishes; 

This  imirn  iny  parritch  in  my  cog, 

Wi'  soot  and  saut  wad  staw  a  dog. 

She's  just  a  kind  o'  world's  wonder, 

She'll  burn  the  braxy  to  a  cinder. 

Her  tatie-broo,  her  kail,  her  brose, 

W  ad  make  a  soo  turn  u])  its  nose; 

The  meals  she  mak's.  to  say  tlie  least. 

Are  neither  lit  for  man  or  beast ; 

My  breeks  they're  torn  in  mony  places, 

I  e'en  should  preen  them  to  my  braces; 

For  lack  o"  preens  I've  twa  big  nails, 

At  present  under  my  coat  tails; 

And,  sir,  my  stockings  should  you  view  tliem, 

Ye'd  trow  a  mondiwint's  run  through  them; 

When  to  the  hills  forlorn  I  creep. 

My  presence  scares  the  very  sheep  ! 

At  times  I'll  sit  doon  'mang  the  grass, 

And  strive  to  blot  out  my  distress. 

Or  to  the  Dowie-den  repair 

To  claw  the  croon  o'  my  desitair." 

The  master  said  "  O,  slop  a  blink; 

And  do  not  sjieak  before  you  think." 

Quo'  Tarn,  "  nae  wonder  that  I'm  sour, 

Ye  little  ken  wliat  J  endure. 

When  1  attempt  to  cliange  her  course. 

It  ordy  mak's  lu'r  ten  times  worse, 

Though  honied  peace  is  my  desire, 

My  words  add  powder  to  the  tire. 

When  words  o'  sense  to  her  I  screed  off 

She  looks  as  if  she'd  bite  my  heail  ftff. 


"*1 


II  ■ 


166 


SKETCHES    AXD    ANECDOTES, 


I''' 


'a 


A  wife  !  she  is  a  wife  indeed, 

She's  lick'd  tlie  butter  all  lier  bread. 

No  more  I'll  look  with  pleasing  looks, 

Her  name  is  blotted  from  my  books, 

No  more  I'll  bottle  up  my  ire, 

I'll  set  the  very  hills  on  fire  ! 

Oh,  had  I  wings  instead  of  hanrls, 

I'd  Hy  away  to  foreign  lands, 

And  fend  wi'  birds  tliat  live;  on  suction, 

And  leave  her  to  her  ain  destruction. 

My  certy  I  I  will  let  her  see, 

She'll  no  ride  rougb-sliod  over  nie. 

She'll  sit,  and  read,  and  laugli,  and  girn, 

She  winna  ca'  the  very  kirn; 

Wi'  tongue  o'  truth  I  liore  maintain 

My  bed's  as  hard's  a  granite  stano; 

The  very  straw  1  do  deiiiare. 

Has  no  been  stirred  this  month  or  mair; 

Oh,  sir,  I  hae  tlie  wale  o'  beds  ! 

The  very  sheets  are  a'  in  shreds; 

Blankets  !  'twould  tak'  an  age  to  cloot  them, 

Sae  ril  e'en  baud  my  tongue  aboot  them, 

Mast(!r,  to  me  the  cause  is  plain; 

The  plays  o'  Shakcspeares  turned  her  brain  ! 

Last  night  she  woke  and  loud  did  bawl, 

'  Hang  out  the  banner  on  the  wall  I 

Falstaff  has  gone  unto  the  wars  ! 

Clip  Romeo  up  in  little  stars  ! ' 

And  when  she  cried  '  Macl)eth  I  to  bed,' 

I  liung  the  bowster  at  her  head. 

I  didna  cltle  ony  harm, 

But  faitli  the  l)owster  broke  the  charm. 

And  now  I  hae  a  strong  desire. 

To  burn  the  play-book  in  the  lire. 

She's  up  to  snulf  I  sir,  do  you  know, 

1  canna  find  it  high  or  low  I  " 

The  master  said.  "  Thomas,  think  .shame 
Upon  your  wife  to  shower  this  blame. 
She  silent  sits,  and  this  should  teach 
Her  silence  far  outweighs  your  speech; 
Unto  your  wants  she's  failed  to  pander, 
Thomas,  you  do  not  understand  her; 


SKETCHES    AND    A.VECDOTES. 


She's  groping  from  th.-  darksome  night 
Up  to  the  hills  of  Truth  and  Light. 
When  mankind  gains  their  proper  senses, 
Then  farewell  cant  and  vile  pretences; 
Wlien  superstitions  rank  disorders, 
Are  banished  from  Earth's  utmost  borders. 
Or,  down  to  dungeon  depths  l)e  east, 
To  live  in  records  of  the  past; 
When  learning  sways  her  sov'reign  rod, 
He  will  be  worshiped  as  a  god. 
The  king  of  bards  !  his  wond'rous  lore, 
Will  live  till  time  shall  be  no  more. 
Bout  Shakespeare  there's  a  fascination." 
Quo'  Tammie.  "  Sir,  I  tak'  occasion, 
To  ca'  it  an  infatuation." 

Quo'  the  guidwiCe.  "  I'll  mask  the  tea," 
The  master  said,  "  so  let  it  be." 
Syne  o'er  a  hamely  social  cup, 
They  settled  a"  the  matter  up. 
This  was  the  substance  o'  the  paction 
Which  gave  a'  parties  satisfaction— 
The  wife  wad  cook,  and  wash  the  dishes, 
And  ne'er  neglect  Tam's  wants  and  wish.'x; 
And  just  to  brighten  up  her  days. 
At  times  she'd  keek  at  Shakespeare's  jilays; 
And  Tarn  came  under  obligation, 
On  all  and  every  occasion, 
To  stop  his  everlasting  clatter, 
And  ne'er  again  throw  bowsters  at  her. 
These  terms  were  written  down,  I've  learn'd 
And  duly  signed  by  all  concern'd, 
The  document  the  master  sent  it 
To  me,  mysel',  to  get  it  printit; 
So  that  the  world  may  now  be  sure, 
That  peace  prevails  in  Lammormoor. 
And  now  without  a  reservation, 
I  here  annex  the  application—  ' 
Keep  silence,  wives,  just  hear  and  see 
And  by  my  troth  ye'll  gain  your  plea," 
The  silent  tear  is  greater  far 
Than  all  the  implements  of  war, 
Let  fools  and  madmen  be  uproarious, 
The  silent  tongue  will  be  victoriou,?  ! 


167 


"l 

if 

li 
f 

1 

0^ 
1 


168 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


4 


OTHERWISE  ENGAGED. 

On  Thursday  last  John  Milton  mot  Andrew  Rhynior 
on  Grand  River  avenue.  After  kindlv  and  satisfactory 
greetings,  quoth  John,  "Andrew,  I  wad  like  if  ye  wad 
come  up  to  my  house  next  Sunday  and  tak'  pot  luck  and 
bring  a  sharp  stomach  alang  wi'  ye,  and  I  will  say  a 
sh'ti-t  grace."  "I  am  much  obliged  to  ye,"  (|U<»th 
Auilrew,  "but  lean  on  no  account  accept  your  invita- 
tion, as  my  wife  has  got  a  new  spring  bonnet,  and  I  am 
engaged  on  that  day  to 'gang  lather  and  thither  wi'  her 
to  show  \l  off." 


THE  LINKS  O'  LOVE. 

O.  tlie  tide  rins  out  and  the  tide  comes  in, 

And  the  buriiies  rin  to  the  sea, 
As  thej'^  wind  their  way  b}'  the  bank  and  brae. 

0,  they  sing  to  you  and  me. 
How  SAVoet  is  the  bloom  o'  the  lieather-bell, 

And  the  o-ov.'aii  on  the  lea, 
Tiie  )>!ush  o'  the  tiow'rs  in  the  sylvan  bowers, 

O,  they  siiiile  to  you  and  me. 

Tiie  sun  sliines  briglit  in  the  lift  aboon. 

And  the  birds  siuir  sangs  o'  glee, 
On  the  grassy  howe  and  the  Ijroomy  knowe, 

0,  tlioy  sing  to  you  and  me. 
T^hey  sing  tlieir  .sangs  their  bonny,  bonny  sangs, 

Till  daylight  shuts  her  e'e; 
Tiien  doon  in  the  dell  by  the  crystal  well 

My  true  love  comes  to  me. 

O,  eomc  to  me,  my  own  tru<!  love. 

My  lieart  is  link'd  to  thine; 
The  stars  o'  night  that  shine  sae  bright 

Tell  me  that  you  are  mine. 
O,  the  tide  rins  out  and  the  tide  comes  in. 

And  the  burnies  rin  to  tlie  sea, 
As  they  wind  their  way  by  the  ])ank  and  l.rae, 

O,  they  sing  to  you  and  me. 


SKETCH  KS    AM,     VNKCDOms.  ,  ^g 

THE  GIANT  OF  ST.  AlJliS. 

St.  Abb.  St.  Helen  ;tnd  St.  Hev 

Tbey  a'  built  kirks  to  be  ueamsi  the  se.-t- 

St.  Abb's  upon  the  nabs. 

St.  Helen's  on  the  lea, 

St.  I3ey"s  U])on  Dunhiir  smnh. 

Stantl8  nearest  to  the  sea. 

~0/d  Rhyme. 
The.  Strea,,.  of  Dyo  takes  its  nso  i„  „,e  .,.»ter„  part 
"I  Ibf  Lamraeirnoor  hilla,  where 

■'  The  licuthcr  blooms  iipw,  iheknowe- 

Pniuroses  apriiis  in  liiclded  Ue)k 
The  soirans  smile  on  hank  iinil  hme 

Aiiians  ihc  bhre  ajid  boriny  UOIs' 
Dowu  o'er  tlie  roeks  the  buniies  fa',' 

Thej  toildle  on  the  rin  sae  pure 
Through  birken  bowers  „n,|  j-elb;  brume 

llial  fringe  Ihegla.les  1„  Lan.mermoor. 

The  Dye  win.ls  pas,  th<.  ancient  villafre  „f  L„„„f„,.. 
.»aeus,  a„,i  there  in  it,s  be..  Iie»  a  .ar,e  rock,  .„:      , 
.■;.ns,.,erocl  hy  tl,e  i„h,.Wtants  of  that  district  a»  one 
..c  wonders  of  the  world.     It  i.  round  in  shape,  „i,^ 
eet  h,sh  fro,„  the  water  „,ark,  and  n.easures  in  ci^uj 
ference  more  than  twenty  feet.     There  is  a  mark  resetu- 
W.ng  a  giant's  hand  upon  it,  side,  and  the  following  is 
the  tradition  regarding  this  stone  and  the  hand-mark 

Til  T\  -"'T  ^'^"''"'^-™-  "f '-  giants  who :. 

one  tune  hved  ,n  these  parts,  one  „f  whom  in  particular 
the^  g.ant  of  St.  Ahbs,  was  endowed  with  su'perhum:; 

as  the  crow  fl.es,  rs  .St.  Abbs  Head,  a  hold  promontory 
-hose  base  ,s  washed  by  the  surging  waves  of  the 
German  Ocean.  [Jpoa  this  sailor's  landmark  are  the 
battered  and  time-worn  ruins  of  a  monastery,  that  was 


:5 


IVo 


SKETCHES    A\I>    AXECDOTES. 


(ilf 


I,     1 


t    V     .1 


founded  by  St.  Abb  in  the  seventh  century,  and  believed 
to  be  the  finst  that  was  established  in  Scotland.  Its 
magnificence  and  extent  may  be  imagined  when  it  is 
state<l  that  the  more  modern  town  of  Coidingham  has 
nearlv  all  been  built  bv  stone  conveyed  from  its  ruins. 
This  m<mastery,  before  the  daybreak  of  more  enlight- 
ened times,  was  i'i(Oilv  endowed  bv  rovaltv,  and  to  it 
V>elon<^ed  the  finest  and  most  fertile  lands  in  that  neiffli- 
borhood.  In  the  olden  times  the  Laminermoor  range 
of  hills  was  studded  with  a  chain  of  strongholds,  castles 
and  forts,  and  this  monastei-y  of  St.  Abl)s  was  one  of 
the  first  links  in  that  chain.  Th"  ne.vt  stronghold  was 
situated  on  the  brow  of  Cockbundaw,  and  known  to  this 
day  by  the  name  of  Eden's  Hold.  This  last  named 
pla(^e,  tradition  has  it,  was  held  in  the  possession  of  a 
giant  of  immense  strength,  and  the  place  is  still  pointed 
out  where  he  leaped  a  deep  chasm  over  the  Whita<lder 
water  wnth  a  huge  bullock  on  his  back  that  he  had 
stolen  or  "  lifted  "  from  one  of  his  neighbors.  This  place 
is  still  known  by  the  name  of  the  "giant's  leap." 
Although  this  giant  was  undoubtedly  strong,  he  had  a 
brother  who  was  guardian  or  protector  of  St.  Abbs 
monestary,  who  was  by  far  the  strongest.  So  much  so 
that  the  stories  related  of  him  make  those  of 
Jack  the  Giant  Killer  sink  into  ]»erfect  insignificance. 
Jlis  eyes  were  as  large  as  twcj  ordinary  tea-saucers, 
his  nose  w^as  shaped  like  a  French  horn,  and  his 
mouth,  when  he  opened  his  jaws,  was  of  such  dimen- 
sions that  he  could  swallow  a  head  of  cabbage  with  as 
much  facility  as  one,  in  these  degenerate  days,  could 
sw^allow  a  sugar-coated  pill.  When  he  walked  forth  the 
earth  resounded  beneath  his  tread,  and  wb  he  lauffiied 
or  roared  the  noise  echoed  and  re-echoed  amongst  the 


SK£TCnES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


171 


liills.  One  day  liis  ])rother  paid  him  a  visit,  and  while 
tlu'y  were  in  conversation  in  one  of  tlie  eloisters,  the 
Abbot  hai)jK'iied  to  jtass  that  way.  He  looked  with 
Home  astonisliinent  at  the  two,  and  then  lie  d('sir(.*d  his 
own  giant  to  take  the  other  giant  into  the  wine  vault 
and  give  him  a  glass  of  wine.  The  two,  as  desired, 
adjourned  to  the  vault,  and  instead  of  drinking  one 
glass  they  poured  several  gallons  of  the  ruby  wine  down 
their  capacious  throats.  When  the  wine  began  to  take 
effect  the  two  commenced  to  roar  and  sing  so  l<tud  that 
at  everv  note  the  Abbev  shook  as  if  visited  bv  a  series 
of  earthquakes.  The  Abbot  knowing  the  causi-  of  this, 
and  fearing  that  the  rafters  would  fall  about  his  ears, 
descended  in  great  haste  to  the  vault  and  desired  his 
giant  to  send  his  brother  home  with  all  dispatch.  The 
two  then  left  and  proceeded  over  the  drawbridge  and 
witli  great  speed  they  walked  together  till  they  came  to 
the  skirts  of  Coldingham  Common.  "  Brother,"  said  the 
giant  of  St.  Abbs  as  he  stood  still,  "  the  Abbot 
requested  me  to  send  you  home  in  a  hurry."  On  saying 
which  he  seized  hold  of  him,  swuni;  him  once  or  twice 
round  his  head,  and  then  with  all  his  strength  he  sent  him 
flying  headlong  through  the  air  the  incredible  distance  of 
ten  miles,  and  when  he  landed  at  his  own  door  he  came 
down  with  such  a  smack  as  made  ('ocklturuiaw  shake  to 
its  very  center.  One  would  naturally  imagine  that  after 
wuch  an  adventure  the  life  w  uuld  have  been  knocked 
out  o'  him,  but  such  it  appears,  according  to  tradition, 
was  not  the  case,  for  that  night  lie  consumed  more  beef 
and  mutton  than  I  dare  venture  to  place  upon  paper. 

One  day  the  Abbot  of  St.  Abbs  discovered  that 
his  giant  had  been  hatching  treason,  and  as  treason  in 
those  days  was  a  crime  of  the  deepest  dye,  he  was  con- 


;m 


d 

n 


172 


8KBTCHKR    AND    ANECDOTEB. 


l: 


■it 


■II 


(ienincd  and  ordered  to  be  hurled  from  the  battlements 
to  the  raging  sea  below.  When  this  was  about  to  be 
put  in  execution,  there  appeared  at  the  gate  of  the 
Abbey  a  Turk  of  powerful  make  and  commanding 
appearance,  who  demanded  an  audience  with  the  Abbr>t. 
The  audience  was  granted  and  the  dcHtruction  of  the 
giant  was  deferred,  to  the  great  disai)pointment  of  a 
large  concourne  of  i)eo})le  who  had  asseinbk'd  to  witriesH 
the  tenaiuation  of  his  earthly  career.  The  Turk  after 
paying  his  obeisance  to  the  Abbot  handed  Iiim 
letters  of  introduction  written  in  the  Latin  tongue,  the 
j)urport  of  which  went  to  inf«jrni  him  that  the  Turk  was 
the  greatest  swordsman  that  the  world  had  ever  jik.- 
duced,  and  that  no  man  that  had  ever  entered  the  lists 
against  him  lived,  but,  on  the  contrary,  were  all  invaria- 
bly cut  to  pieces.  On  reading  these  letters  an  idea  struck 
the  Abbot  that  it  would  be  a  good  plan,  instead  of  throw- 
ing the  giant  into  the  sea,  to  match  him  in  battle  against 
the  Turk.  He  then  made  known  his  decision  to  his  subor- 
dinates, and  desired  that  the  giant  be  brought  to  his 
presence  in  the  yard  of  the  court.  The  giant  approached 
with  his  keepers,  with  his  hands  tied  behind  his  back, 
and  then  the  Abbot  informed  him  that  he  had  altered 
his  mind,  and  that  he  preferred  that  he  should  be  put  to 
death  by  the  hand  of  the  Turk.  He  then  gave  orders 
to  unbind  him,  and  a  spear  was  placed  in  his  hand.  The 
truni}>ot  sounded  for  the  onset,  and  the  Turk  looked  at 
the  giant  with  an  air  of  disdain  and  contempt.  To  show 
forth  his  agility  the  notion  struck  him  to  leap  over  the 
head  of  the  giant.  He  gave  a  spring.  The  giant  eyed 
him,  and  when  he  was  immediately  above  his  head  he 
raised  his  spear,  and  sent  it  up  through  the  body  of  the 
Turk  with  such  force  that  the  stricken  Turk  fell  on  the 


SKKK  IIKS    ANI»    ANKCnoTKft. 


17a 


top  of  the  Gfiiiut,  who  n-fcivcfl  him  with  as  much  com- 
poHiiiv  ;is  an  ordinary  tnnrtal  woiiM  t'cd  the  arrival  of 
a  tlakc  of  snow.  The  sfx-ctators  then  rent  tlic  air  \vit)i 
aj)j)l:iMS(',  an<l  Home  of  iIumu  riishdl  forward  ;iu-l  lifU'd 
the  Turk  down  from  olT  ihi-  shouhh  rs  of  the  ^jaiit  aii<i  hiid 
him  on  the  <j^r<Mnid.  lit'  t^'avo  a  scornfid  hxik  a1  his 
advi'rsary,  ami  wilh  his  riinaininix  strcriLCth  lie  Kaid  : 
"Monster  tiial  tli(ni  art,  I  led  humiliated  1o  Ix'  siiiin  hy 
sucli  as  thi'c.  Oil  I  il'  I  c'ddd  ojicc  more  haadlc  my 
Damascus  blado."  lie  tiion  turned  his  eves  to  tlie  Ahbot 
and  said  :  "Sir  Ahhot,  tlie  hand  tliat  has  shiin  many 
a  ij^aHant  kniuflit  at  wappcn-shaw,  tournament  and  on  the 
battle-fiehl  will  soon  be  cold.  Your  villain  of  a  giant  has 
done  for  me  at  last."  Here  he  gave  a  series  of  groans,  and 
then  he  said:  "Sir  Abbot,  before  my  spirit  leaves  tliis 
wounded  body,  one  request  I  fondly  crave,  and  that  is 
that  you  will  send  my  remains  to  Constantinoj)le."  The 
last  word  faltered  from  the  tongue  of  the  dying  Turk, 
lie  opened  his  ej'es.  Ilis  lips  quivered,  he  ground  hii* 
teeth,  be  clenched  his  hands,  and  gave  a  convulsive 
start.  He  raised  himself  nearly  up  on  his  feet,  his 
wounds  gushed  forth  afresh,  and  he  fell  back  lifeless 
upon  the  ground.  The  giant  stood  and  stared  at  the 
dead  Turk,  and  from  his  vacant  look  appeared  not  to 
comprehend  that  he  had  accomplished  so  much.  lie 
was  aroused  from  his  reverie  by  the  Abbot,  who  said  : 
*•  Giant,  knave,  know  that  for  your  gallant  exploit  this 
day  your  misdeeds  are  blotted  out.  Receive  your 
life  at  my  hands,  and  furthermore,  to  crown  my  good 
will,  I  will  make  you  keeper  of  the  golden  coffers  of  the 
Monastery  of  St.  Abbs." 

Now,  Satan  in  those  days  paid  a  personal  visit  to  the 
British  Isles,  and  having  accomplished  his  work  in  Ire- 


u 

i 

, 

If 


1V4 


SKETCIIEK    AND    ANKCDOTES. 


land  ho  paid  a  Hyinj^  visit  to  Scotland,  and  by  some 
means  or  another  he  found  out  that  there  was  an 
immense  (juantity  of  ,i?old  coin  hoarded  up  in  the  Mon- 
astery of  St.  Abbs.  He  accordingly  paid  that  place  a 
visit  and  soon  ingratiated  himself  into  the  fnvor  of  the 
giant.  One  evening  after  vespers,  and  when  the  even- 
ing stai'  was  shining,  the  two  s;it  down  to  have  a  game 
at  cards.  The  game  ran  high,  and  Satan  allowed  the 
giant  ff>r  a  time  to  hold  the  winning  '-ard.  He  being 
elated  with  success  tossed  upon  the  stone  table  two  bags 
of  gold.  On  seeing  this,  Satan  overturned  the  table  upon 
the  toes  of  the  criant,  seized  tlie  bags  of  gold  and  ilewoff 
in  the  direction  >vhere  in  after  years  Cromwell  marched 
his  soldiers  into  the  interior  of  Scotland.  It  is  impossi- 
ble at  this  date  to  describe  the  agony  that  the  giant 
experienced.  At  length  with  one  great  effort  he  pushed 
the  stone  table  into  the  sea,  and  then  he  grasped  hold  of 
the  stone  in-  sat  o)i  and  hurled  it  through  the  air  after 
the  devil.  He  sent  it  with  such  force,  as  before  hinted, 
he  left  the  imprint  of  his  hand  on  its  side.  Satan 
looked  over  his  shoulder  wlien  nearing  the  top  of  Dunse- 
law,  and  he  saw  and  heard  the  mighty  stone  booming 
through  the  air.  He  grasped  the  bags  of  gold  tighter 
below  his  armpits  and  redoubled  his  exertions,  for  in 
devils,  as  well  as  in  mankind,  self-preservation  is  their 
first  law.  The  perspiration  was  streaming  out  of  every 
pore  of  his  carcass  before  ho  skimmed  the  top  of  Hai- 
den's  hill.  Vet  still  he  flew,  and  better  llew.  As  In- 
bounde<i  over  tlie  water  of  Dve  the  stone  w:is  williin  a 
few  feet  of  his  bla/ing,  sul{)liurous  tail,  when  its  force 
was  spent  and  it  tell  phunp  into  the  stream  !  Satan,  it 
appears  i'voiw  the  tradition,  got  off  "  scot  free,"' and  it 
18  almost  suix-rtiuons  to  mention   that  the  stone  tlung  by 


ll 


SKETCHKS    AXD    ANECDOTKS. 


175 


the  giant  of  St.  A))l).s  is  the  identical  Ktone  as  dcHcribed 
in  the  coniineneement  of  this  story. 

Anything  further  reganlincr  the  two  Lammernioor 
giants  is  hjst  in  tlie  mists  of  obscurity  ;  hut  we  know 
that  Satan,  from  fear  or  some  other  cause,  left  for  a 
time  the  'Hjonnie  border  land,"  for  the  next  trace  we 
have  of  him  was  at  K'irkaldy,  in  Fifeshire,  where, 
according  to  the  old  song, 

"Some  say  the  (h-iTs  dead,  Mk;  dcil's  dciul  ; 

Tin;  dcil's  dead,  and  ))uric(l  in  Kirkaldy  ; 
Souu'  say  lic'll  rise  again,  rise  auairi, 

And  iiatice  tiic-  '  IfiLrlilund  Laddie.'" 

In  digging  into  the  (tiyths  of  fhc  ],;ist,  wc  cannot  but 
Rmile  at  the  credulily  of  our  ancestors,  who  lirndv 
believed  in  the  su])erhuman  sway  of  hobgoblins,  giants, 
satyrs  and  devils.  In  our  day  we  can  alfonj  to  laugh  at 
these  mere  creations  of  the  imagination,  'rhan  such 
beliefs  it  is  1  letter  far 

t(j  icarn  timi  (Jod  is  love  ; 


f.ovc  and  i.ut  dri'ad  our  Maker 
And  Itanisii  siiiitTslitious  cant 
'iJout  hells  black  hallansliaker. 


<;<»  iln.MK. 
Some  young  men  a]. pile.'  to  the  parish  schoolmaster 
for  a  grant  of  the  school  J'or  t|„.  [Hirj.ose  of  using  it  f.»r 
a  debating  club.  Permission  was  -iveii  ami  the  deb.ate 
began  on  the  .(uestion,  -  What  tempte.!  tie  sparrow  to 
kill  cock  robin  y"  WHien  these  juoonshjne  intelhM^tual 
gladiators  were  in  full  blast  the  schooltnaster  entered 
and  sat  down,  lb-  ros,.  up  and  said,  "(J.,  Inune  <'very 
one  of  you,  and  study  the  useful,  and  do  your  i,cst  to 
obtain  knowledge  within   the  boumls  of  human  conipre- 


mm 


:> 


4^, 


leiision. 


17»; 


SKF/miKS    AND    ANECDOTES. 


1C 


JOirX   AUXOTTrt  BAIRNS. 

John  Ariiott  livi  <i  amonir  tho  hills 

Whore  blows  tlic  cailiT  <iir  : 
One  itxini  Ik'  took  his  siiok.  'In mi  he 

Went  nir  to  ('iiU'onl  fair. 

"Wticii  hi'  'j:()\  lo  111"  fair  he  lo.ikM, 

And  lli(!ii  he  (11(1  not  fail 
To  S(;o  holli  horses,  sheep  anl  slots, 

And  many  cows  for  sale. 

He  met  with  in;ui_\  of  Iiis  iVi<,'i:ds  ; 

Th(\v  n  were  trlnd  to  see  him  ; 
They  kindly  ask-Mi  if  >!ill  his  wife 

And  bairns  were  living-  wi'  him. 

How  pleased  was  he,  how  plea.sed  were  ihey, 

He  saw  it  in  their  faces, 
When  he  informed  them  that  liis  wife 

Had  now  nirio  lads  and  lasses. 

When  they  heard  this,  "  IJy  George."  they  erjo' 

And  oil  they  went,  dc-larin' 
Thai  they  wotdd  look  around  and  buy 

Ilk  ane  o'  them  their  fiiirin'. 

When  John  got  hamo'  bout  ten  o'clock, 
His  wife  unto  him  said, 
"John.  Jolm,  keep  still,  y<']\  wake  the  wri  m. 
The  weans  are  a'  in  bed," 

Wi'  this  wee  Jean  ga'e  Tam  a  clout  ; 

Her  mither  cried,  "  For  shame," 
Tam  woke,  then  yelled  wi'  all  his  might, 

"  Jean,  Jean,  my  father's  hame." 

Then  frae  their  beds  the  bairnies  sprang. 

And  ther*'  \\a>  sic  a  scene. 
When  he  ga'e  Tam  a  rattle,  and 

A  trumpet  gave  to  Jean. 

To  I*at(.'  he  gave  a  pearie,  and 

Wee  Smiimie  got  a  top  . 
And  Nainiie  ,got  a  braw,  l)raw  doll. 

And  Mei!-  a  skijiping  rope. 


^r 


SKITC'HKS    A%r>    A.VKCIi  :>;  r:s. 

A   I'.MifOry  slifiwl  li(>  handed   Nell, 
\Vi'  How  IS  wron'j-iit  up  tlic  middle; 

Paul  ■/,(,!  a  dou'ilc-!.];vd('ii  kniCi  , 
Anil  I\(.M.io  w-ot  ;i  fiddle. 

He  gave  tliciii  nuts  and  ginacr-brerjd, 

And  8audy  got  a  whistle, 
And  here  I  blusli  when  1  record— 

They  sent  .loh'i's  wife  a  hustle. 

But  tliere  was  one— qu(>en  of  my  Jiear'- 
Wliosc  wort!)  can  ne'er  he  told  ; 

I  sent  to  iifT  a  hraeelet,  and 
Two  rings  of  hcalen  gold. 

0  !  what  ;i  night  o'  fun  they  had  ; 

O  !  what  a  night  o'  din. 
'Twas  late  e'er  tliey  got  bedded,  and 

Next,  moiji  they  a'  sieeped  in  ! 


177 


CELP^BUATING  THE  FOURTFI. 

As  my  beloved  aunt y  liad  Ix-en  ai!in_LC  for  some  time 
wi'  a  sort  o'  wheezing  c<)u<;li,  yet  the  spirit  of  enthusiasm 
seized  us  baith,  and  we  thought  we  wouhl  celebrate  the 
Fourth  in  Wind.sor.  Wlu-n  we  returned  hame,  in  the 
gloaming,  and  after  my  beloved  aunty  had  brushed  all 
the  flies  out  of  the  house,  I  immediately  sat  down  and 
wrote  the  following  : 

Breathes  there  a  man   with  soul  so  dead,  who  never 
to  himself  hath  said,  this  is  mine  own,  my  native  land- 
George   Washington.     Tliy  spirit,  independence,  let  me 
share,  Lord,  of  the  lion-heart  and  eagle-eye — Ilenrv  Clay. 
Hail  to  the  chief  who   in   iriumph   advances!    honored 
and    blessed     be   the    <v<iL;T(cn    pi,u' !  -  (ion.   Jackson. 
To  horse!  to  horse!   the  .-.liUMlard  flies,  the  })ugles  sound 
the  call.— Thomas  Palmer.      Kwu  tiger  fell,  and  sullen 
bear,  their  likeness  an-l  their  lineage  spare.     Man  only 


mm 

J 


178 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


[• 


c 


marn  kind  nature's  plan  and  turns  the  fierce  pursuit  on 
man. — Henry  A.  Robinson. 

I  rose  and  T  recited  the  above  to  my  beloved  aunty, 
and  at  its  conclusion  she  exclaimed,  "  How  beautiful  T 
It  breathes  the  spirit  of  the  air  of  freedom  ;  but  you 
have  said  nothing  about  Pocahontas."  "Pocahontas  I" 
I  cried.  "  Come  to  my  arms,  Pocahontas  !  "  "  Bless 
ray  soul,"  said  my  beluved  aunty,  "  she  has  been  dead 
for  these  many  years."  "  Hush  !  "  I  cried,  "dinna  break 
the  spell,  let  me  trow  that  she  is  still  alive,"  and  I  tell 
asleep  with  the  name  of  the  bjautifid  Indian  niaidep 
upon  my  lips. 

JOHN  McWATT  AXD  .JEAN  McRAE. 

Come  hitlior  frioivl^;,  fome  sit  by  nie, 

And  lend  your  ears  uud  list 
Unto  u  woeful  ballad  "bout 

A  young  phreuoloii;ist. 
This  young  man's  name  was  Jolm  Me  Watt. 

And  ho  loved  .loan  ^IcRae, 
And  in  his  thcjughts  this  uiaideu  was 

Established  night  and  day. 

He  loved  her  with  an  ardent  love, 

And  in  his  conversation, 
He  strove  to  do  liis  very  best 

To  gain  her  approbation. 
In  glowing  terms  he'd  speak  to  her — 

Whenever  they  did  roam,' 
'Bout  Laycock,  Spurzb.cim  and  Gall, 

And  George  and  Andrew  ('ombe. 

But  ".viieri  he  spoke  upon  these  heads, 

.Jean  often  told  her  m<itliei\ 
That  what  he  said  went  in  one  ear 

And  shot  nut  at  t!ie  otiier. 
Her  mother  then  at  these  remarks 

Would  be  inclined  to  scold. 
And  tell  her  that  a  silent  tongue 

Is  worth  its  weii:'lit  in  LJold. 


SKETCHES    AXD    AXECDOTES. 


17^ 


One  niglit  John  sat  in  Jean's  boudoir 

Upon  a  cushioned  chair, 
He  raised  liis  hand  and  he  began 

To  smooth  Jean's  golden  hair. 
She  looked  at  him  with  loving  eyes, 

Then  rashly  he  did  state— 
"I  tind  that  your  dcstructiveness, 

My  dear,  is  very  great  !  " 

With  this  her  blood  began  to  boil, 

She  rose,  she  stood  ui^right, 
And  then  she  crii.'d  "go,  serpent,  out 

For  ever  from  my  sight  !  " 
With  bleeding  heart  poor  John  McWatt 

Went  where  the  billows  roar. 
And  he  again  was  never  seen 

In  Jean  JMcRae's  boudoir  ! 

Now  when  Jean  heard  of  John's  sad  fate, 

She  nlso  sought  the  shore. 
And  she,  like  poor,  pcjor  John  McWatl, 

Was  seen  for  nevermore! 
Now  all  young  men  who  are  in  love. 

And  all  \-e  maidens  fair, 
Take  warning  from  the  fearful  fate 

Of  this  unhappy  pair. 


SHE  PURSED  UP  HER  UPS. 

Moses  Zimmerman  was  the  offspring  of  one  of  our 
early  pioneers.    Moses  got  sick  of  solitude,  so  he  engaged 
himself  to  Mary  Aim  Ileavyside.     Before  settling  down 
to  fight    the  cares  and    perplexities  of   matrimony  he 
resolved  to  visit  foreign   lauds,  tiieii   to  come  home  au<l 
do  good,  and  love  mercy,  aud  marry   Mary  Ann.     The 
indulgent  reader  mn^x   lien-   he   pleased   to   leap  over  a 
period  of  fourtv-eu   v/ed^x.      .Moses   refuriu'd   hotne,  and 
was  received  by  Ivs   Mary  Ann   with  great   presence  of 
mind,  which  is  at  al(   ••  .-ucs  necessary.     After  some  pre- 
liminary remarks,  Mary  Ann  opened   her  note  hook  and 


ill 


180 


SKKIfUKS    AND    AN'ECHOTKS. 


ir 


aai<l  :  "  Well,  my  dear  Moses,  did  you  visit  Europe,  Asia 
and  Africa,  and  did  you  ijfo  a»  far  north  as  Copenhagen?" 
Quoth  Moses,  "I  ]an(h'<l  at  Glasi;-ow,  Scotland,  and,  my 
dearest,  tlic  ladies  in  tliat  city  are  beautiful.  'Their 
brows  ai"e  like  tlie  snnw  <lrift,  their  necks  arc  like  tiie 
swan,  their  f acres  ai'e  the  fairest  tliat  e'er  the  sun  slione 
on.'"  (^uoth  ^^.•u•y  Ann,  "Moses,  comparisons  are 
odious,"  She  pursed  up  hei-  lip>;  and — shut  up  her  note 
book.  .____ 

CULLODEN. 

Tlie  biiltlo's  lost  !     When  day  was  gom* 

The  sky  began  to  lour, 
And  murky  clouds  hung  like  a  pall 

O'er  dark  Culloden  moor. 
The  Stewart  cause  is  over  lost, 

Hark  !  hark  !  upon  the  gale 
Is  borne  the  shout  of  triumph  and 

The  clansman's  dying  wail. 

Among  the  wounded  and  the  dead 

A  maiden  treads  her  waj. 
And  aye  the  te^rs  r()lled  down  the  cheek« 

O'  bonnie  Nellie  Gray, 
When  darkness  lle(l.  ar.d  when  the  lisfht 

Its  morning  curtain  drew. 
Oh,  how  .she  kissed  thi;  lips  o'  him 

She  lo'ed  sac  leal  and  true. 

She's  ta'en  him  to  her  father  s  ha', 

And  when  n])on  tlie  wa}', 
'Twas  lifu  in  death  to  lean  upon 

His  bonnie  Nellie  Gray. 
She  hi<l  him   inang  the  yellow  hroom. 

She's  watch'd  him  late  and  ere, 
And  oft  she  heard  the  troopers  whrn 

No  trooper's  foot  was  there. 

The  night  with  all  its  fears  was  gono; 

But  at  the  daw  o'  day 
The  spirit  <>'  the  gallant  Graham 

Forever  passed  away, 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


181 


Down  by  the  burn  in  Gleumore  glen, 

Where  weeping  willows  wave, 
There  sleeps  tlie  chief— the  gallant  Gralium- 

The  brarest  of  the  brave. 

They  laid  hini  in  the  dreary  dell. 

'Way  from  the  haunts  o'  men- 
Down  where  the  streamlet  soughs  and  .si,L'h« 

And  murmurs  through  the  glen. 
The  ro6es  tied  frae  Nellie's  cheek, 

The  ro.ses  fled  away. 
And  broken,  broken  was  the  heart 

O'  bounie  Nellie  Gray. 

For  days  they  sought  her  by  the  burn, 

They  sought  her  far  and  near; 
They  called  her,  but  no  answer  fell 

Upon  the  list'ning  ear. 
They  sought  lier  down  in  Gleumore  glen 

Where  weeping  willows  wave, 
7  hey  found  lier  slee])ing  her  last  .sleep 

Upon  her  lover's  grave  ! 


A  HOT  NIGHT. 
For  some  years  Benjamin  F.  Thompson  studieci 
"Cooley"  and  other  law  writens.  The  law  profes.sion, 
however,  did  not  agree  witli  his  moral  susceptibilities 
80  he  renounced  it  and  bought  a  few  cows,  and  he  now 
<lelivers  good  milk  with  a  clear  conscience.  One  morn- 
ing he  appeared  pale  and  wan  with  the  milk  measure  in 
his  hand.  His  eyes  were  half  shut,  and  his  once  ro.sy 
cheeks  resembled  the  yellowness  of  a  duck's  leg.  Me- 
thougkt  I  saw  before  me  CampbeH's  "Last  Man,"  an.l  I 
even  imagined  I  heard  these  lines  fall  from  his  lips  : 

"Go,  tell  the  night  th.it  hides  thy  face, 
You  see  the  last  of  Adam's  race." 

Mr.  Thompson,  with  a  weary  sigh,  said  :  "  Oh,  what 
a  fearful  night  I  have  come  through.  The  heat  wa« 
beyond  all  endurance.     I   ^peak  to  you   the   words  of 


'  I 

■  I 


fun 


J 


') 


I  i  I 
i 


IH: 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


'■K 


m 


m 


truth.  I  do  not  tell  a  lio,  that  tiiroiigh  the  flilent  watches, 
sir,  1  nevx'r  closed  an  eye.  At  intervals  I  was  on  the 
bod,  and  at  intervals  I  was  upon  the  floor.  At  intervals 
1  was  below  the  sheet  and  at  intervals  I  was  above  it.  I 
sung  '  Home,  Sweet  Home,'  and  played  upon  the  fiddle 
*  H.iil,  Columbia,'  and  recited  'The  Old  Oaken  Bucket 
That  Hangs  in  the  Well.'  Yet  these  <lulcet  sounds 
brought  no  repose.  My  comlitlon  was  so  deplorable 
that  I  even  forgot  that  mv  foot  was  (jn  nw  native  heath 
and  that  my  name  is  Henjaniin  F.  Thomp-^on.  Though 
doors  and  windows  were  flung  oiiou  \vi(\<\  the  perspira- 
tion welh'd  up  and  rolled  down  like  torrents  to  the  sea, 
I  began  to  smoke,  and  the  smoke  arose  till  I  thought 
the  very  dome  of  my  thoughts  had  gone  on  fire.  Milk  ! 
the  tickets  are  out." 

JEANIE  DEAXS. 

[Inscribed  to  Jas.  B.  McKay,  Esq.,] 

Poor  .Jcaiiie  left  her  hmcly  hame, 

And  oh,  lier  lieart  ^vas  sad  and  sair; 
She  loft  her  father  wi'  the  thought 

That  she  would  never  see  him  mair. 
She  thought  she  ne'er  again  would  see 

St.  Leonard's  and  its  pleasing  scenes, 
Wae's  me  I  she  heard  the  wee  birds  sing — 

Farewell,  farewell  to  Jeanie  Deans 

She  looked,  she  saw  the  prison  walls, 

By  the  wayside  she  bowed  her  knee; 
She  cried,  "  Oh,  heaven  spare  Eflie's  life. 

And  lay  her  load  of  grief  on  nie  I  " 
Poor  Jeanie  I  waesome  were  her  thoughts, 

As  on  she  trudged  from  day  to  day  ; 
Behind  was  death,  before  was  hope, 

And  hope  from  heaven  led  the  way. 

Poor  Jeanie  Deans  !     How  long  to  thee 

Was  ev'ry  weary,  weary  mile; 
At  length  she  saw  the  London  lights, 

And  told  her  story  to  Argyle. 


SKin-cfiKs  Axn  ankcdotks. 


183 


He  saw  Jilt  in  licr  liirlmi  plaid, 
lie  took  licr  kindly  hy  the  liand. 

Ho  .si,^^ll(.(l  and  said,  "Cold  l„.  Ar-'yli", 
Wlicii  he  I'oi'iicts  ills  iiativu  lan<i.' 

"To  save  your  own,  your  si.ster's  life, 

You  rould  not  s])fak  a  word  untrue. 
Your  teiidiT  licirt  is  free  from  ^iruile, 

And  purer  than  tlie  mornin,!,^  dew." 
When  Jcanie  stood  afore  tlie  queen, 

With  quiv'riiiir  lips  she  thus  did  say  — 
"  The  good  tliat  wc  t,'  others  do 

\V  11  cheer  us  (;n  our  dyin;,^  day.'' 

X'.w.  when  she  reached  Jier  natiy.-  land, 

The  prison  dcjors  )lew  wide  and  fn-e. 
She  kindly  .said,  "Oh,  Effle.  come. 

3Iy  sister,  come  aAyay  wi'  me." 
Sweet  Jeanie  Deans  !  grand  Jeanie  Deans  ! 

How  Scotland  loyes  your  very  name, 
Y'our  name  \vill  live— forever  live 

Unsullied  on  the  scroll  of  fame  ! 


a 


YOUTH  vs.  AGE. 

If  an   exhil)ition   of  tailors  was  to   take  placo,  Mr. 
Isbel,  if  the  judges  are  imbued  with   wisdom,    would 
promptly  assign  him  to  the  philosophical  class  or  depart- 
ment.    In   course  of  conversation  he  remarked,  "  I  am 
beginning  to  believe  that  age  is  making  sad  inroads  upon 
me.     Once  in  a  day   I  couM   fall  off  trees  an.l  houses, 
and  over  precijtices,  witliout    bad    results.     Alack    tlie 
day  !     If  I  now  fall  the  comparative  short  distance  of 
Hfteen  feet  it  shakes   me   ail   up,  and  I  feel  all  out  o' 
kilter  for  several  hours.     But  more  than  that,  I  am  now 
inclined  to  become  very  desj)ondent  and  dumpish,  aii.J 
at  these  times  woidd  gladly  give   any    man   twcnty-tive 
cents  to  take  rae  by  the  coat    tails  and  fling  me   head- 
Jong  out  at  the  window." 


T! 


i  it 


r 


f 


c 


mil 

,13111 


I  •( 


184 


8KET0IIKS    AND    A  N  KCDOTKS. 


THE  IIOUUUKS  OF  WAli. 


Mr.  ShoMon,  a  gentleman  (»!'  tj^rfut  iiit(.'lliLC<'ii(;»', 
resided  at  one  tiiuc  at  'J'illlmry,  Essex  Co.,  Out.,  hut 
now  resides  in  Detroit.  He  was  born,  however,  uhout 
the  year  1820,  at  Halifax,  Nova  Seotia,  whldi  eountry 
was  discovered  hv  John  C'ab(jt  in  tlie  year  1497.  Early 
impressions  are  frerinently  the  stronu^est,  and  Mr.  Shel- 
don still  reiniMnhiTs  old  I)i(!k  Dalryniple,  an  old  warrior, 
who  was  quartered  in  Halifax  jjfarrison.  Wlien  the 
nights  became  louij;,  and  the  noses  of  people  became 
blue,  Dick  would  recount  many  ai'  liis  war  a<lventures 
bv  flood  and  field.      Diek  was  at  the  battle  of  Waterloo, 

"  Wlicn  l()U«l  lh(j  truin|i(!t  blew, 

And  Oaledou  hlcw  n[)  lier  drone 
On  tli«,'  plauis  (>'  Waterloo." 

"As  truth  may  lan<j:uisii,  but  can  never  perish,'^  quotlf 
Mr.  Sheldon,  "(lie  fullowiiijj:  liad  better  be  told  in  I)i(^k's 
own  words":  "The  bittle  of  Waterloo  was  f(JU!4hten 
on  June  18,  1815,  and  the  niu'ht  before  I  felt  sae  strunj^ 
that  I  thought  I  could  cut  olf  the  heads  of  10,000 
Frenchmen  at  one  blow.  I  belanged  to  the  Scots  Grevb 
and,  my  oerty,  afore  we  went  into  the  battle  we  were  a 
tine  body  o'  men  ;  but  afore  we  cam'  out  I  can  assure 
every  ane  o'  ye  that  we  did  get  our  kail  through  tlie 
reek.  When  I  saw  Napoleon's  cuirassers  coming  upon 
us  in  the  shape  of  a  cid  de  sae,  like  so  many  devils  let 
loose,  I  trembled  in  the  saddle  and  my  heart  began  to 
faint  and  fail.  The  thought  struck  me  that  I  would 
never  again  see  the  hills  and  dales  o'  my  native  land. 
*  Charge,  Chester,  charge  ! '  '  On,  Stanley,  on  ! '  And 
all  this  gangs  to  show  that  we  dinna  ken  what  is  afore 
us  :  for  next  morning  I  was  frying  beefsteaks  for  break- 
faat  in  one  of  their  helmets." 


t 


SKETCHES    AM)    ANECDOTES. 


THE  COMING  OF  THE  ROHIX. 

[InseribtHl  to  Wm.  Wa.vlkss,  Lorulon,  ( >nt.J 

Wt'lconie.  sweet  bird  of  curly  spring, 
I've  watched  for  flice  so  iJrig; 

O,  how  it  ciieers  riiy  weary  heart 
Once  more  to  hear  tiiy  song  ! 

1  see  lliee  from  my  lonesome  couch, 
I  watch  thee  through  the  pane; 

Thy  song  of  gladness  thrills  my  hejirt, 
And  hope  comes  bacli  again. 

Thou  comest  unto  me  as  from 

The  golden  gates  above, 
Like  sunlight  on  the  cloud  of  gloom— 

A  messenger  of  love. 

The  primrose  smiles  beneath  the  hedge, 
The  bee  seeks  out  the  llow'r, 

The  gowau  lifts  its  head  to  greet 
The  coming  genial  show'r 

The  grass-green  leaf  bedecks  the  tree. 
The  flowers  are  blooming  fair; 

The  sunlight  dances  in  on  me, 
And  lightens  all  my  care, 

Tlie  weary  wint'ry  days  have  fled, 
Bird  of  sweet  song  I  how  fain 

I  am  to  hear  thy  song  of  joy. 
And  welcome  thee  again.' 

The  sun  has  set  'mong  fleecy  clouds,. 

The  gloamin'  steals  along, 
The  dew-drop  falls,  and  thou  hast  sung 

To  me  thy  eveiu"ng  soug. 

Bird  of  the  spring,  with  jet  black  wing. 
And  breast  like  burnished  gold, 

Thy  song  melodious  brings  to  me 
A  hope,  a  joy  untold. 

To  me  thou'rt  linked  by  nature's  hand, 

O,  could  I  wile  thee  near  ! 
I'd  fondly  fold  thee  to  my  breast, 

And  love  thee  all  the  year 
13 


185 


Htm 

•fflUK 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


1.0 


I.I 


1.25 


IIIIIM 


i^ 


m 

:40 


2.0 


11= 

i.4    IIIIII.6 


V] 


■c^l 


(^ 


^ 


■<r? 


/y 


V 


/A 


Photographic 

Sciences 
Corporation 


^^ 


\ 


iV 


\\ 


'<*. 


c> 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER.  NY    MSBO 

(716)  872-4503 


^ 


186 


SKETCHES   A3fD   ANECDOTES. 


I'      i . 


c 


K:.l' 


K: 


A  CHANGE. 

Auld  Sandy  McDonald  thus  complained  :  "  Man,  I 
was  ill  yesterday.  I  was  sair  haudin'  doon  wi'  the  coal- 
black  cluds  o'  misery.  My  banes  were  a'  sair,  and  there 
was  a  noise  in  ma  head  like  the  birr  o'  a  spinnin'-wheel. 
As  sure  as  I  am  a  livin'  mortal,  my  speerit  descended  to 
the  very  nebs  o'  my  taes.  Parritch  !  I  couldna  look  at 
them,  and  as  for  broze  the  verj''  smell  o'  them  was 
enough  for  my  stomach.  I  was  e'en  livin'  'mang  V>icker8 
o'  agony,  and  bowie's  o'  distraction.  Man  I  Ilka  breath 
I  drew  gaed  up  and  down  my  thrapple  like  living  blast 
frae  a  blacksmith's  fire.  At  the  lang  and  the  last  the 
sweet  began  to  gush  oot  o'  me  frae  ilka  pore,  like  water 
oot  a  water  cart.  Noo,  mark  the  change.  Me  and  my 
guidwife  had  a  guid  niglit's  rest  last  night,  and  this 
raornin'  my  heart  is  as  light  as  the  down  of  the  gossa- 
mer when  it  is  Heein'  hither  and  thither  amang  the 
hills."  

CAULD  WEATHER. 

[Inscribed  to  David  Beveridhe,  Esq.] 

The  winter's  come  at  last, 

Wi'  a  gurrly  bitter  blast,  < 

The  wild  winds  how  eerielj'  they  roar  ! 

Oh,  haste.  Alice,  haste, 

There  is  nac  time  to  waste, 

And  double  lock  and  bar  up  the  door. 

My  harp  now  hand  me  o'er, 

I'll  touch  its  strings  once  more, 

There's  naething  like  a  sang,  I  say; 

Song  is  the  only  art 

That  can  cheer  up  the  heart, 

When  auld  folk  are  dowie  and  wae 

Oh  !  what  a  dreary  view, 

The  burn  is  roarin'  fu', 

And  lashing  the  bank  and  the  brae. 

The  trees  are  standing  bare. 

Like  victims  of  despair 

When  the  last  gleam  of  hope  dies  away. 


SKETCHES   AND    ANECDOTES. 


187 


Up  from  the  days  remote, 

Care  is  the  common  lot, 

He  is  Icing  over  way-faring  man  ; 

There  is  sunshine  here  and  there, 

Tliere  is  sorrow  everywhere. 

Yet  nature  ne'er  wanders  from  her  plan. 

Though  weary,  worn  with  care. 

Though  hedged  in  with  despair. 

And  friends  are  far  and  few  ; 

Yet  still,  Alice,  mine, 

We  must  never  repine 

While  the  bright  star  of  hope  is  in  view. 


THE  WEAPON  FELL. 

It  has  come  to  my  knowledge  that  parents  far  too 
frequently  overlook  the  transgressions  of  their  children. 
When  these  parents,  I  have  often  heard,  are  admonished 
of  their  neglect  of  discipline,  they  often  fling  these 
remarks  in  your  teeth  and  say  :  **  It  is  impo.ssible  to  put 
an  old  head  on  young  shoulders ; "  or,  "  Boys  will  be 
boys."  This  is  all  very  well ;  but  children,  in  my  poor 
opinion,  ought,  under  all  circumstances,  to  be  early 
trained  to  feel  the  rod  of  correction.  To  prove  these 
facts,  the  following  is  submitted  without  reservation  : 
Lucan  Garland  resides  with  his  j»aronts  on  Locust  street, 
and  he  is  named  after  the  village  of  Lucan,  which  is 
beautifully  situated  on  the  Liffey,  province  of  Leinster. 
One  day  Lucan  threw  a  stone  which  almost  broke  the 
back  of  an  old  maid's  favorite  cat.  The  old  maid 
informed  Mrs.  Garland  of  this,  and  she  flew  at  Lucan 
like  a  clocking  hen  at  a  collie  dog  and  carried  him  into  the 
house.  She  then  ordered  him  to  sit  down  on  a  stool, 
which  he  did  with  tearfulness.  She  then  ordered  him 
to  take  off  his  shirt,  which  he  did  with  meekness. 
She  then  procured   a  big  stick,  but  when  she  saw  his 


mmm 

5 


-;! 


i 


m-f 


»'  1.!* ': 


i 


1- 


€ 
< 

r 


I  ii! 


t  i; 


188 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


beautiful  white  neck,  the  tear  of  compassion  fell  upon 
her  hand.  Her  hand  became  powerless  and  in  a  moment 
the  deadly  weapon  fell  to  the  ground. 


TWO  LOVE-LETTERS. 

These  two  letters  contain  a  pleasing  correspondence 
that  lately  took  place  between  Mr.  John  Scott  and  Miss 
Fanny  Blair.  They  illustrate  the  tender  emotions  of 
the  human  heart.  They  prove  that  Robert  Southey  was 
correct  when  he  penned  these  words  : 

"  They  err  who  tell  us  love  can  die." 

As  the  fire-and-flint  age  has  passed  away,  this  age  may 
be  considered  as  the  age  of  investigation  and  proof. 
With  this  in  view,  I  may  state  that  Mr.  John  Scott  is 
descended,  by  a  direct  line,  from  Sir  Michael  Scott,  the 
great  Scottish  wizard,  who  flourished  in  that  country 
about  the  thirteenth  century.  Among  some  of  his  can- 
trips I  may  remark  that  he  cleaved  the  Eildon  hills  into 
three  cones,  and  put  a  bridle  on  the  river  Tweed  when 
that  river  was  at  top  flood.  As  for  Miss  Blair,  she  is  a 
lineal  descendant  of  the  Rev.  Robert  Blair,  who  was 
minister  of  Athelstoneford,  Scotland,  the  celebrated 
author  of  "  The  Grave,"  and  who  died  in  the  year  1 746. 
It  may  not  be  foreign  to  the  subject  to  state  that  the 
writer  of  these  lines,  in  the  year  1849,  stood  with  due 
reverence  beside  his  lowly  grave. 

HE. 

Postman,  this  letter  take  with  care, 
Instanter  to  Miss  Fanny  Blair. 

Since  meeting  you  upon  Belle  Isle 

I'm  in  a  woeful  plight. 
Your  lovely  image,  Fanny  dear, 

Haunts  me  both  day  and  night. 


^ 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECD0TB8. 


189 


I  spoke,  and  when  you  spoke,  my  dear. 

Oh,  how  my  heart  did  beat ; 
Your  voice,  like  "Annie  Laurie's"  voice, 

Is  very  low  and  sweet. 

The  sun  came  out,  and  when  I  raised 

Your  paraaol,  my  dear, 
I  felt  as  if  my  heart  had  fled 

To  some  angelic  sphere. 

Oh,  how  I  longed  to  kiss  your  lips— 

To  vow  and  to  beseech  ; 
But  my  heart  failed  and  then,  my  dear, 

I  lost  the  power  of  speech. 

You  recollect  upon  that  day 

We  met  beside  the  stream, 
We  sat,  we  rose,  and  then  we  took 

Three  dishes  of  ice  cream. 

I  felt  so  strange,  as  if  the  earth 

Was  rocking  underneath  me; 
I  strove  to  find,  but  failed  to  find 

What  was  the  matter  with  me, 

'Twas  love  !    I  found  that  Cupid's  dart 
Had  pierced  me  through  and  through; 

My  Fanny  !  none  can  comprehend 
The  love  I  have  for  you. 

Sweet  grows  the  apple  on  the  tree. 

The  cherry  and  the  pear. 
But  none  of  these  are  half  so  sweet. 

So  sweet  as  Fanny  Blair. 

At  times  I  feel  so  sad,  .so  lone, 

Lone  as  the  lonesome  night; 
The  thought  of  you  dispels  the  cloud 

And  brings  the  golden  light. 

With  this  I  send  you  a  red  rose 

And  a  forget-me-not, 
While  I  remain, 

My  dearest  dear, 

Forever  yours, 
John  Scott. 


I    '! 


", :  ! 


^^ 


190 


SKETCHES   AND   ANECDOTES. 


i: 


c 


f  I  H' 


I  r. 


SHE. 


Postman,  Fly  just  like  a  shot, 
And  take  this  note  to  Mr.  Seott. 

Dear  Mr.  Scott, 

Your  letter  came 

To  me  the  other  day, 
And  when  I  read  it  I  grew  pale, 

And  fainted  clean  away. 

They  bathed  my  hands,  they  bathed  my  brow, 

With  what  the  French  call  eau. 
Yet,  for  a  space  my  life  was  lost 

Among  the  sands  of  woe. 

I  could  not  for  a  moment  think, 

I  could  not  understand, 
How  you  could  dare  to  ask  of  me 

To  give  to  you  my  hand  ! 

I'm  living  with  my  parents  now. 

My  parents  kind  and  true, 
And  I  would  rather  live  with  them 

Than  I  would  live  with  you. 

We  may  have  brothers,  sisters,  and 

At  times  may  have  a  lover. 
But  there  can  never  be  a  word 

That  sounds  so  sweet  as  mother. 

My  father  has  a  house  and  lot 

On  Brush  street  and  Atwater, 
And  he  holds  bonds  at  8  per  cent, 

And  I'm  his  only  daughter. 

I  would  not  like  to  write  down  "  Yes," 

But,  Mr.  Scott,  I'd  rather 
That  you  would  come  around  and  hold 

Some  converse  with  my  father. 

Though  caution  tells  me,  Mr.  Scott, 

From  all  men  to  beware. 
Yet  notwithstanding 

I  remain, 

Yours  truly, 

Fanny  Blair. 


SKETCHES   AND    ANECDOTES. 


191 


P.  S.— Some  Sunday,  if  you  think 

It  would  be  wort':  my  while, 
I'll  bake  u  cake  and  we  will  take 

It  with  us  to  Belle  Isle. 

O  !  'twill  be  grand  when  spring-time  comes 

Upon  Belle  Isle  to  be; 
To  hear  the  birds  sing  o'er  their  songs 

Of  love  to  you  and  me. 

But  I  must  lay  aside  my  pen, 

A  nd  get  the  coffee  ground, 
So  'bout  Belle  Isle  we  will  arrange 

Some  night  when  you  come  round. 

My  father  thinks  that  coffee  is 

More  nourishing  than  tea, 
He  calls,  I  go, 

While  I  remain. 

In  haste,  yours, 

Fanny  B. 


JEAN  GORDONS  PORRIDGE  POT. 

Being  reared  near  the  village  of  Yetholm,  Scotland, 
I  flatter  myself  that  I  was  much  respected  by  the  male 
and  female  gypsies  who  were  residents  of  that  place.  If 
health  and  strength  holds  out  I  intend  to  write  a  history 
of  these  people  from  time  immemorial  up  to  date.  As  a 
specimen  of  the  contemplated  work,  and  as  a  sort  of 
avaunt  courier,  I  fling  out  the  following  : 

Charley  Young  was  a  tinker  who  made  and  mended 
pots  and  pans,  and  Sandy  Faa,  who  had  the  royal  blood 
of  the  Faa's  coursing  through  his  anatomical  structure, 
was  a  horner.  That  is,  that  he  manufactured  horn 
spoons  out  of  the  horns  of  cows  and  other  horned 
animals.  One  day  Charley  and  Sandy  got  drunk,  and 
Sandy  sold  Charley  a  horse  for  seven  shillings  and  si.\- 
pence  sterling.  Next  day  Charley  met  Sandy  and  he 
said  to  him,  "  Ye  are  a  mo.st  notorious  vagabond,  scoun- 


M 


A 


••I 


a 


'I 


102 


SKKTCIIES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


c 

c 

r 


f  1 


»     A 


<irel  and  cheat,  and  if  ye  £?ot  your  deserts  ye  ouji^ht  to 
be  hanged  up  by  the  neck  for  half  an  hour.  Ye  sold  ine 
that  horse  yesterday,  and  ye  gave  warrant  that  it  was 
flound  in  wind  and  limb.  Instead  of  which,  ye  8cor|Mon 
that  ye  are,  it  has  the  poll  evil,  greased  heels,  palsj'  of 
the  stomach  and  an  inordinate  appetite."  "  Ma  con- 
science I "  cried  Sandy.  "  Your  conscience,"  cried 
Charley,  "  dinna  speak  to  me  about  your  conscience — it 
is  thread-bare  ;  a  speeder  wadna'  hank  its  web  to  such  a 
mess  of  corruption."  On  saying  this  Jean  Gordon 
approached  with  a  broken  pot  in  her  ^-ind,  and  she  said, 
"  Charley,  I  wish  ye  would  go  momently  and  men<l  my 
porridge  pat.  It  fell  oiT  the  fire  full  o'  boiling  water, 
and  it  scalded  the  cat  and  its  hair  is  coming  off  its  back 
by  the  handfuls,  and  the  bairns  are  roaring  wi'  hunger, 
for,  I  weel  I  wat,  they  winna'  get  a  mouthfu'  till  the 
pat,  mere}'  me !  is  mended." 


JAMES  THOMSON. 

Author  of  "The  Seasotu." 

When  winter's  surly  blasts  Hy  past, 

And  to  the  north  retire, 
How  sweet  ye  welcome  gentle  spring. 

Decked  iu  her  green  attire. 
When  glorious  summer  smiling  comes, 

With  blushing  tlowers  array'd, 
Thou  art  our  guide  o'er  hill  and  dale 

To  streamlet,  glen  and  glade. 

When  autumn's  robed  with  golden  sheaves, 

Then  l)eautiful  and  blate, 
Unto  the  fields  Lavinia  comes 

To  glean  and  captivate. 
And  when  th}'  hoary  winter  comes, 

Cold,  naked,  shivering,  sere, 
It  totters,  then  falls  in  the  arms. 

And  clasps  the  dying  year. 


J  it 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


10) 


Of  thy  great  hymn,  "  These  as  they  change,' 

Mankind  will  never  tire, 
It  burns,  it  breaths  the  highest  thotights 

That  heaven  am  inspire. 
The  storm,  the  shine,  the  genial  shower, 

The  hill,  the  dale,  the  river. 
Great  rural  bard  I    Thy  name  and  fame 

Arc  linked  with  them  forever. 

Fain  would  I  stray  by  Tweed's  fair  stream, 

And  o'er  the  hills  to  Yarrow, 
And  wander  in  the  winding  dell 

That  has  no  mate  or  marrow. 
Alas  !  the  scenes  you  have  describd, 

So  graphic  and  so  grand. 
No  more  I'll  see,  the  night  falls  fast , 

Farewell,  my  native  land. 


THEY  RETURNED  IN  A  HURRY. 

Prof.  David  Fairgrieve  is  an  erudite  scholar  and  is 
grounded  in  many  languages.  His  general  information 
is  widespread.  With  truth  I  affirm  that  learning  has 
refined  him  and  elevated  his  mind.  As  like  draws  to 
like  we  often  meet,  and  when  we  meet  we  light  the  lamp 
of  wisdom  and  we  rejoice  in  the  thought  that  all  the 
riches  of  California  cannot  purchase  mental  endow- 
ments. Aside  from  Mr.  Fairgrieve's  scholastic  duties  he 
takes  great  delight  in  rearing  young  chickens  and  in  teach- 
ing their  young  ideas  how  to  shoot.  One  morning  two 
chickens  strayed  away  and  got  into  a  neighbor's  garden . 
The  neighbor,  in  a  friendly  manner,  rapped  on  the  door 
and  informed  Mr.  Fairgrieve's  lady  of  the  above  fa(!t. 
The  lady  went  immediately  to  drive  them  out,  and  as 
they  came  out  at  the  gate  Mr.  Fairgrieve  came  out  at 
the  door.  They  flew  past  him  on  the  wings  of  terror. 
He  looked  at  them  with  wonder  and  he  exclaimed,  "  Qwv 
amissa  salva  " — what  was  lost  is  safe. 


'■A 

5 
■1 


.  1 


lii 


I 


V 


:1i 


?rr 


104 


SKETCHES   AND    ANECDOTES. 


1^ 


c 
r 


.    i 

*r    ! 

r  ii. 

if': 


THE  POWER  OF  SNUFF. 

llriHcribed  to  Wm.  Younjf,  Ewi.,  Huiiiilton,  Ont.] 

Lo  !  Lauder  lies  in  Lauderdale, 

A  town  of  great. renown; 
And  in  it  lived  a  frugal  man, 

Whose  name  was  Thomas  Hrown. 

I  knew  him  well,  and  I  may  say 

I  also  knew  his  sister; 
And  many  a  time,  ahint  the  door, 

I — dear  me — I  have  kissed  lier. 

Hud  fortune  smiled.  I'm  more  than  sure 
She  would  iiave  been  my  bride; 

And  then  how  sweet  we'd  warmed  our.feet 
At  our  ain  higle-side  ! 

Her  brother  did  not  live  in  style, 

As  some  on  Scotland's  sod, 
Hut  for  a  livelihood  broke  stones 

Upon  the  public  mad. 

He  was  as  cross-grained  as  a  mule, 

And  it  nmst  be  confess'd 
His  temper  was,  to  say  the  least. 

None  of  the  very  best. 

These  traits  were  handed  down  to  him 

By  generation  stages. 
From  Picts  and  Scots  who  lived  and  lov'd, 

And  died  in  the  past  ages. 

These  were  his  faults,  and  I  am  loath 

To  be  tt  fault  recorder; 
To  make  amends,  I  swear  his  worth 

Was  of  the  highest  order. 

Some  men  are  prone  to  wink  at  vice, 

And  advocate  the  wrong; 
But  as  for  me,  let  virtue  be 

The  essence  of  my  song. 

Now  in  the  town  all  men,  with  pride, 

This  worthy  man  regarded; 
And  even  wives  agreed  that  Brown 

Some  way  should  be  rewarded. 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 

Hark:  I  am  pleaseil  now  to  relate, 

And  up  my  bonnet  lling, 
That  this  ik-sign  brought  forth  its  fruit 

Quite  early  in  the  spring. 

They  made  1dm  lord  and  provist,  and 

O,  h(t\v  they  were  clatwl, 
When  on  that  day,  Ity  dint  of  law, 

He  was  inaugurated. 

The  tiddlers  played  in  the  town  hall, 
The  dance  went  fast  and  faster, 

Fun  was  let  loose,  Joy  bounded  up. 
And  knoekit  doon  the  plaster. 

The  provist  made  a  telling  speech, 
His  words  were  terse  and  fervent; 

He  said,  "  Forever  IhjM  remain 
Their  most  obedient  servant." 

The  dear  remembrance  of  that  night 

No  time  can  e'er  destroy, 
E'en  candlesticks  went  reeling,  and 

The  candles  ran  wi'  joy. 

Ah,  me  !    I'll  ne'er  forget  that  night 

As  on  the  floor  I  stepjjed  it, 
At  a  propitious  moment  J 

Propost<l  and  was  accepted . 

Though  many  a  day  has  passed  and  gane 
Since  Thomas  Brown's  election. 

His  sister  yet  remains  my  pink 
And  rosebud  of  perfection. 

And  though  her  brother  up  was  raised 

To  this  important  station, 
Yet  that  did  not  restrain  him  from 

His  usual  occui^atiou. 

One  day  when  he  was  napping  stones 

A  man  drove  up  with  speeil, 
He  cried:  "  Take  olf  these  stones,  I'm  bound 

For  Berwick-upon-Tweed. " 


195 


if 


■It 


i , 


:> 


-'  I 


r< ! 


196 


AKKTCilKS    AM)    ANK«  HOTKH. 


.    -I't' 


if 


;l.    i'.H 


M     ! 


Quo'  hi>:  "  I  will  not  in*)V(>  tliein  though 
Your  horst;  with  gold  was  sIknI; 

So  ye  limy  turn  your  horsr's  head 
And  gang  the  «)th4>r  road." 

Quo'  he:  "  I'll  turn  ahout  and  tell 

The  provist  upi>n  you, 
And  I  may  whisper  that  my  name 

Ih  John,  duke  of  Buccleugh," 

The  provist  looked  with  bitter  scorn, 
He  cried :  "  Now  stop  your  clamor, 

I  am  lord  provist,  and  take  care 
O'  my  great  big  stane  hammer. 

"Ye  tell  mc  that  ye  are  a  duke. 

Ye  maybe  are  a  marquis; 
But  faith,  I  carena'  though  ye  be 

The  prince  o'  outer  darkness. " 

The  duke  cried,  "  Provist,  take  a  gnuflf," 
Which  brouglit  them  close  together. 

Syne  they  set  down  and  cracked  amang 
The  bonnie  blooming  heather. 

They  cracked  and  snuffed  and  better  SDufTd; 

The  hours  Hew  past  wi"  speed. 
That  e'en  the  duke  forgot  to  go 

To  Berwick-upon-Tweed. 

And  oh,  his  wife  sat  up  that  night 

And  sair  did  greet  and  moan, 
And  wring  her  lily  hands  and  cry, 

"  What  can  be  keeping  John  ?  " 

But  when  he  met  Her  Grace — his  wife, 

Whom  he  did  love  most  dearly, 
She  dried  her  tears,  and  then — what  then  ? 

She  kissed  him  most  sincerely. 

As  for  the  provist,  he  ran  hame. 

And  roared,  "Ye  burghers,  see 
This  gold  snuff  box  that  I  got  from 

My  lord— Oh,  mercy  me  ! " 


'  I  ! 


:  !!■ 

■  .,fi, 

;1  • 


MKRTniRH    AND    ANK<I»OTK8. 


191 


When  nrown'8  guiilwifi-  y     tho  (  oulThox, 
Wow  !  wow  !  hut  she  o/jle, 

81r'  jiimplt  up  aiKi  on  the  i  )()r 
Sill' 4liiiic('<l  the  "  Ucol  «•  Uogh'." 

And  iiyt'  hIic  (|iiiiic<l  ami  nyv  she  mug, 

"O  I  hidciinil  tide  and  tow, 
O.  hide  iind  tide,  ho^l^rh  !  hide  and  Mde, 

I  ani  u  htdy  now  !" 


SriAKKSI'KAKK. 

The  hpiirl  beatx  low  wlicn  Gcnhis  cries— 

('an  you  esHuy  tin-  tasli 
To  write  of  him  whose  mind  is  far 

Beyond  the  liuman  grasp  ? 
Fain  would  I  sing  in  golden  words 

A  song  angelic  sweet, 
And  bow  the  knee  with  humbleness 

And  worship  at  his  feet. 
The  joy,  the  grief,  from  youth  to  age. 

Tlie  love-hope  and  despair; 
Shakespeare,  ulone.  unlock  u  the  heart. 

And  laid  the  passions  J>are, 
What  wond'rous  visions  of  the  mind 

Thy  fervid  pencil  drew. 
Of  spirits  in  the  earth  and  air. 

Of  every  shape  and  htie. 
Thy  scenes  are  tilled  with  human  forms 

As  if  with  magic  art. 
They  come— they  answer  at  thy  call— 

To  speak  and  play  their  part. 
With  curious  shapes  ye  deck'd  the  trees, 

The  bush,  the  fern  and  tlower. 
And  mankind  wonders  more  and  more 

At  thy  creative  power  I 
Forgotten  are  the  great  and  brave. 

The  migljty  kings  and  sages. 
But  Shakespeare  will  be  idoliz'd 

Througli  all  the  coming  ages. 
Shakespeare  !  I  fain  would  sing  of  thee 

A  song  angelic  sweet. 
And  bow  the  knee  with  humbleness. 

And  worship  at  thy  feet. 


■I 
i      ! 


t    I     I 


!98 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


THE  DAFT  DAYS. 

To  John  A.  Brite,  Es(|.,  Hamilton,  Ont.: 

My  Dear  Friexd — Some  time  aj^o  I  spent  eonsid- 
erable  time  in  a  vain  endeavor  to  trace  the  root  and 
meaning  of  the  word  "  Hogmanay,"  but  the  more  I 
advanced  tlie  further  tlie  meaning  of  tlie  word  receded. 
In  "Jameson's  Scottish  Dictionarv "  it  is  classe(i  as  a 
word  of  dou})tfuI  meaning.  Prof.  IloVjinson,  of  Edin- 
burgh, considered  tliat  it  had  its  origin  from  the  French 
words  At)  guex  menez,  whicii  means  "  to  the  mistletoe 
go."  Another  philologist  was  of  the  opinion  that  the 
word  in  question  came  also  from  the  French  An  f/uex 
menez,  which  means  "  l)ring  to  the  l)eggars."  Robert 
Chambers  makes  mention  of  a  custom  in  tlie  Highlands 
of  Scotland  where  one  of  the  young  people  gets  a  dried 
cow's  hide  which  he  drags  l)ehind  him,  and  the  rest  fol- 
low beating  the  hide  with  sticks  and  singing  the  follow- 
ing rhyme  in  Gaelic,  which  is  thus  translated  : 

"  Hug  man  a', 
Yellow  bag. 
Beat  the  skin 
Carlin  in  neuk, 
Carlin  in  kirk, 
Carlin  ben  at  the  fire. 
Spit  in  her  two  eyes. 
Spit  in  her  stomach. 
Hug  man  a'." 

It  will  he  observed  that  the  words  "Hug  man  a'" 
are  used  twice  in  this  rhyme,  which  much  reseml>les  the 
word  "  hogmanay."  The  reader  will  also  observe  that 
the  word  "  Carlin,"  that  is  old  woman,  is  also  thrice 
introduced.  In  illustration  of  this  rhyme  a  Lowland 
Scotch  friend  of  mine,  who  knew  nothing  of  this  High- 
land   custom,  and   who   never  saw   the   rhyme    above 


^ 


SKETCHES    AST)    ANECDOTES. 


199 


<luoted,   thus   attempted  to   explain    the   meaning  and 
origin  of  the  word  hogmanay,  which  had  better  be  given 
in  his  own  words  :     "  In  the  auld  time,  the  davs  a"  the 
end  and  beginning  o'  the  years   were  ca'd  the  "daft 
days,"  and  in  the  lang-syne  a  lot  o'  braw   lads  and  l,on- 
me  lasses  had  gathered  to  drive  care  against  the  wa'. 
When  the  fun  was  gaun  on,  a  strange  man— a  man   cral- 
lant  and  gay,  joined  the  party.     Now,  in  this  company 
there  was  a  bonnie  lass  that  caught  the  stranger's  fancy, 
and  he  embraced  and  kissed  her  frae  time  t.>  time.     At 
the  ingle-side  there  sat  an  auld  carlin  wha  was  wat.hin' 
the  partial  proceedin's  o'  the  stranger,  and  she  roared 
out  to  him, 'i?-*^^   tnan  n\'  which    means   in    Em-lish, 

*  Man,  embrace  the  rest  of  the  lasses,'  or  in  other  ^^•r».•dsi 

*  Do  not  bestow  all  your  attention  on  one.'  " 

My  friend  may  be  right,  or  he  may  be  wrong,  but 
there  is  certainly  some  connection  between  the  IfigTlaiul 
rhyme  and  the  Lowland  tradition.  lie  is  right^  how- 
ever, in  calling  these  days  ''The  Daft  Da}^s."'  The 
unfortunate  poet  Fergus.«on  wrote  a  poem  entitled  "  The 
Daft  Days,"  from  which,  in  illustration  of  the  customs 
of  the  time,  the  following  may  be  quoted  : 

"Let  mirth  abound,  let  soeiiil  cheer 
Invest  tlie  dawiiin'  o'  the  yefir; 
Let  blytljsome  innocence  appear 

To  crown  our  joy: 
Nor  envy  wi'  sarca.stic  sneer  * 

Our  bliss  destroy.     • 

And  thou  ijreat  trod  of  A(|Uavitac, 
Wha'  sways  the  empire  o'  tliis  citv— 
Whan  fou,  we're  sometimes  capernoity— 

Be  thou  prepared 
To  hedge  us  frae  that  black  banditti, 

The  city  guard." 


i   I, 


hii 


r 


«<i 


u\ 


200 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


I  may  here  explain  that  in  the  poet's  day  the  peace 
of  Edinburgh  was  protected  by  the  "  City  Guard,"  and 
this  guard  was  composed  of  old  Highland  warriors. 
Instead  of  the  baton  they  carried  Lochaber  axes,  and 
with  one  of  these  they  would  think  no  more  of  hewing 
a  man  down  than  they  would  to  sup  a  cog  o'  brose.  The 
poet  in  his  poems  more  than  once  pours  out  the  vials  of 
his  wrath  upon  these  "  black  savages,"  whom  he  consider* 
far  worse  than  "  the  hungry  maw  of  a  lion  or  the  tusk 
of  a  Russian  bear." 

In  weighing  all  that  has  been  said  regarding  the  word 
"  Hogmanay,"  I  am  inclined  to  agree  with  my  learned 
friend,  M.  Garland,  Esq.,  that  it  is  a  compound  word^ 
and  derived  from  the  Gaelic.  In  that  language  Eachd 
signifies  a  deed  or  exploit,  and  Mainigh  signifies  mad- 
ness or  foolishness.  Should  a  Gaelic  scholar  combine 
these  two  words  and  pronounce  them,  the  sound  will  be 
found  to  much  resemble  the  word  Hogmanay.  Cer- 
tainly, the  significance,  to  say  the  least,  is  strong 
circumstantial  evidences  of  Mr.  Garland's  side  of  the 
question. 

Regarding  the  "  Daft  Days  "  the  guidwives  were  in 
the  habit  of  baking  large  quantities  of  oatmeal  cakes,, 
and  these  were  cut  into  farls,  i.  e.,  into  four  parts,  and 
these  were  handed  round  to  the  guizarcU  or  other  callera 
to  the  tune  of — 

Get  up  guidwife  and  shake  your  feathers, 
Dinna  think  that  we  are  beggars, 

We  are  bairnies  come  to  play, 
Get  up  and  gie's  our  hogmanay. 

The  origin  of  the  guizard  play  of  Galatian,  like  the 
word  Hogmanay,  is  unknown.  The  English  have  a 
play   which  they   play   at  Christmas  which  somewhat 


SKETCHES    AND    AXECDOTKS. 


201 


te  the 

lave   a 

jwbat 


resembles  the  Scottish  play  of  that  name.  I  have  been 
informed  by  a  gentleman  from  Galashids  that  the  Scotch 
rendition  of  this  play  was  held  in  high  esteem  by  Sir 
Walter  Scott,  who,  when  residing  at  Abbotsford,  had  a 
company  of  guizards  to  enact  it  on  the  aiild  year  nights. 
I  am  inclined  to  think  this  play  has  never  appeared  in 
print  on  this  side  of  the  Atlantic. 

OALATIAN. 

Enter  Talking  Man — Haud  awu  rocks  and  haud  awu  reels, 

Haud  awa  stocks  and  spiuniii'  wheels, 

Rede  room  for  Gorlaud,  and  gie  us  noom  to  sing, 

And  I  will  show  you  the  prittiest  rhyme 

That  was  ever  heard  in  Christinas  time. 

Muckle  Head  and  Little  Wit,  stand  ahint  the  door; 

But  sic  a  set  as  we  are  ne'er  were  here  afore. 

Shew  yourself  Black  Knight ! 
Black  Knight — Here  comes  in  Black  Knight,  the  King  of  Macetlon, 

Wha  has  conquered  a'  the  warld  but  Scotland  alone. 

When  I  cam'  to  Scotland  my  heart  it  grew  cold, 

To  see  a  little  nation  sae  stout  and  sjie  bold— 

Sae  stout  and  sae  bold,  sae  frank  and  sae  free; 

Call  upon  Galatian  to  fight  wi'  nie. 
Oalatian — Here  come  I,  Galatian;  Galatian  is  ma  name; 

Sword  and  pistol  by  ma  aide.     I  hope  to  win  the  game. 
Black  Knight— The  game,  sir,  the  game,  sir,  it  isna  in  your  power; 

I'll  cut  you  down  in  inches  in  less  than  half  an  hour. 

My  head  is  made  o'  iron,  my  heart  is  made  o'  steel. 

And  my  sword  is  a  Ferrara,  that  can  do  its  duty  week 

Down,  Jack,  down,  to  the  grouiul  you  must  go. 
They  Fight  and  Oalatian  Falls— Oh  !  Oh  :  what  is  this  I've  done  ? 

I've  killed  my  brother  Jack,  my  father's  cmly  son. 
Talking  Man — Here's  two  bloody  champions  that  never  fought 
afore; 

And  we  are  come  to  rescue  him,  and  what  can  we  do  more  ? 

Now  Galatian  he  is  dead  and  on  the  tloor  i'^  laid, 

And  ye  shall  suifer  for  it,  I'm  unco  sair  afraid. 
Black  Knight — I'm  sure  it  wasna  me,   sir,    I'm   innocent  o'  the 
crime; 

'Twas  the  young  man  behind  me,  wha  drew  the  sword  s»e 
fine. 
14 


♦ 


RJliV    f 


202 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


< 

r 


Dill 


'i« 


Young  Man — O,  you  awful  villain,  to  lay  the  blame  on  me; 

When  ray  twa  een  were  shut,  sir,  when  this  young  man  did 
dee. 
lilack  Knight — How  cotild  your  een  be  shut,  when  you  were 
looking  on? 
How  could  your  een  be  shut  when  their  swords  were  being 

drawn? 
Is  there  ever  a  doctor  to  be  found  in  auld  Scotland's  ground? 
'Tti'king  Man — Call  in  Doctor  Brown,  the  best  o'  a'  the  town. 
Enter  Doctor — Here  comes  in  as  good  a  doctor  as  ever  Scotland 
bred; 
And  I  have  been  through  nations,  a-learning  of  my  trade; 
And  now  I've  come  to  Scotland  all  for  to  cure  the  dead. 
Blftck  Knight— WhiV  can  you  cure  ? 
Doctor-  1  can  cure  the  rurvy  scurvy; 

And  the  rumble-gumption  in  a  man  tliat  has  been  seven  years 
in  his  grave  or  mair;  and  I  can  make  an  auld  woman 
look  like  a  girl  o'  sixteen. 
Black  Knight — What  will  you  tak'  to  cure  this  dead  man  ? 
Doctor — Ten  pounds 
Black  Knight — Will  not  one  do  ? 
Doctor — No. 

Black  Knight — Will  not  three  do  ? 
Doctor — No. 

Black  Knight— WiW  not  five  do  ? 
Doctor — No. 

Black  Knight— Yf'iW  not  seven  do  ? 
Doctor — No. 

Black  Knight— Vf'xW  not  nine  do  ? 
Doctor— Yes,  perhaps — nine  may  do,  and  a  dram   o'  whisky.     I 

have  a  little  bottle  of  inker-pinker  in  my  pocket. 
{Aside  to  Oa,hititin)—T'Ake  a  little  drop  o'  it. 

By  the  hocus-pocus,  and  the  magical  touch  of  my  little  fin- 
ger, start  up,  John. 
Galatian  Rises  and  Cries— Oh,  my  back  ! 
Doctor — What  ails  your  back  ? 
Oalatian — There's  a  hole  in't  ye  may  turn  your  nieve  ten  times 

around  in  it. 
Doctoi' — How  did  you  get  it  ? 
Oalatian— Fighting  for  our  land. 
Doctor — How  many  did  yo  kill  ? 
4}alatian—l  killed  a'  the  loons  but  ane,  that  ran  and  wadna  stand. 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


203 


in  did 
1  were 
I  being 
round? 

711. 

cotlaud 

ade; 
A. 


n  years 
woman 


lisliy.     I 
iittle  flu- 

ju  times 


la  stand. 


(The  whole  party  dances  and  Qalatian  ainga) — 
Oh,  ance  I  was  de>id,  sir,  but  now  I  am  alive, 
And  blessed  be  the  doctor  that  made  me  revive, 
We'll  all  join  hands  and  never  fight  more, 
We'll  all  be  good  brothers  as  we  lia'e  been  afore. 

Enter  Judaa—lli're  comes  .Judas,  Judas  is  my  name. 

If  ye  put  not  sillf  r  in  my  bag  for  guidsako,  mind  our  wamel 
When  I  gaed  to  the  castle  yett  and  tirled  at  the  pin, 
They  keepit  the  key  o'  the  castle  and  wadna  let  me  in. 
I've  been  i'  the  east  carse, 
I've  been  i'  the  west  carse, 
I've  been  i'  the  Carse  o'  Gowrie, 
Where  the  cluds  rain  a'  day  pease  and  beans, 
And  the  farmers  theek  houses  wi'  needles  and  preens; 
I've  seen  geese  gaun  on  pattens. 
And  swine  fleeing  i'  the  air  like  peelings  o'  iugons. 
Our  hearts  are  made  o'  steel,  but  our  bodies  sma'  as  ware 
If  you've  ony  thing  to  gie  us,  stap  it  in  there. 
(Pointing  to  the  bag.) 

All  sing — Blessed  be  the  master  o'  this  house,  and  the  mistress  also. 
And  a'  the  little  bairnies  that  round  the  table  grow; 
Their  pockets  fu'  o'  siller,  their  bottles  fu'  o'  beer— 
A  merry,  merry  yule,  and  a  happy  New  Year. 

Different  songs  were  then  sung  by  the  guizards, 
either  individually  or  collectively. 

In  my  early  years,  when  residing  in  the  Laniiuer- 
raoors,  I  took  an  active  part  in  these  heartsome  and 
lightsome  frolics.  At  one  of  these  one  of  ray  compan- 
ions sang  a  song  which  I  have  never  seen  in  print.  The 
burden  of  it  I  can  only  remember  : 

"  There's  ae  ae  cog  and  a  cog  between, 
There's  twa  twa  cogs  and  a  cog  between. 
There's  three  three  cogs  and  a  cog  between  ; 
The  miller's  daughter  kens  rigiit  weel 
How  many  cogs  there's  in  the  mill  wheel." 

I  have  a  number  of  rhymes  connected  with  the 
"Daft  Days" — the  braw  days  o'  lang-syne,  but,  my 
dear  sir,  I  must  draw  this  letter  to  a  conclusion. 


204 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


c 

< 


«» 


;<■ 


A  LAY  OF  ABBEY  ST.  BATHANS. 

[Inscribed  to  Wh.  Youno,  Esq.,  Hamilton,  Ont.] 

In  the  very  heart  of  the  Lamraerraoor  hills  is  situated 
the  small  village  of  Abbey  St.  Bathans.  About  the 
end  of  the  last  century  the  Rev.  Mr.  Skedd  was  its  par- 
ish minister.  He  was  not  like  some  ministers  of  these 
days,  who  were  called  "  dry  sticks,"  but  on  the  contrary 
was  a  most  eloquent  preacher  in  the  pulpit,  and  out  of 
it  was  famed  far  and  near  for  his  ready  wit.  Like 
other  ministers  of  that  period,  Mr.  Skedd  was  very 
poorly  paid  for  his  ministerial  services,  and  had  enough 
to  do  to  maintain  a. large  family  upon  a  small  income, 
and  was  obliged,  for  the  purpose  of  making  '*  ends 
meet,"  to  manufacture,  on  a  small  scale,  baskets  and 
potato  creels,  which  were  sold  by  his  wife  to  the  farm- 
ers in  the  vicinity.  Mr.  Skedd  was  in  the  habit  of 
making  one  basket  every  week  day,  and  numbered  the 
days  of  the  week  by  the  number  of  baskets  he  made. 
He  was  very  absent-minded  and  forgot  that  he  had 
preached  on  a  Thursday  in  a  neighboring  parish,  and 
curious  to  relate  his  little  daughter  found  him  early  on 
a  Sabbath  morning  at  work  upon  the  sixth  creel.  The 
outs  and  ins  of  this  incident  have  been  turned  into 
rhyme  to  show  that  the  best^samples  of  the  human  race 
may  fall  into  error: — 

Aboot  the  uughteeu  bunder  year, 
When  meal  and  meat  were  unco  dear, 
When  wark  and  siller,  too,  were  scant. 
And  folk  were  like  to  dee  for  want, 
E'en  folk  that  ance  were  rale  weel  off 
Could  barely  buy  a  quarter  loaf. 
But  be  content  their  gabs  to  gust 
Wi'  heel  o*  cheese  or  bannock  crust, 
And  as  for  beer  to  aid  digestion 
Wah  just  a  thought  clean  out  the  question. 


I' 


SKETCHES    AXD    ANECDOTES. 


905 


situated 
jout  the 
i  its  par- 
of  these 
contrary 
d  out  of 
it.  Like 
was  very 
I  enough 
[  income. 


g 


ends 


ikets  and 
the  farm- 
habit  of 
bered  the 
he  made, 
t  he  had 
Irish,  and 
early  on 
eel.  The 
rned  into 
iman  race 


>n. 


Haith  !  they  were  glad  to  lielp  themsels 

Wi'  hiilcsonie  dniughts  fnie  nature's  wells. 

The  halms  that  anoe  hail  breeks  and  braws 

Went  duddy  ind  as  lean  as  craws. 

When  mothers  heard  tlit-ir  wants  and  wishes 

Saut  tears  wad  fa'  in  empty  dishes, 

The  men,  maist  feck,  were  cowed  and  worrit, 

And  wished  that  they  were  dead  and  burrit,  ' 

Ane  e'en  wad  think  that  dool  and  care 

Cam'  scowlin'  in  the  very  air  ! 

In  Abbey's  auld  romantic  toon, 
Where  Whitadder  comes  rowin'  doun, 
And  lingers  in  her  seaward  race. 
As  laith  to  leave  so  sweet  a  place; 
Green  grows  the  grass,  the  woods  how  green, 
Nature  ne'er  made  a  fairer  scene  ! 
In  the  auld  manse,  half  up  the  brae, 
A  preacher  lived  for  monie  a  day; 
Weel  versed  was  he  in  Gospel  law, 
But  liech  !  his  stipend  was  but  sm'a'. 
And  here  it  may  as  well  be  said, 
The  preacher's  name  was  Air.  Skedd; 
His  wife  was  somewhat  cross  and  fretit, 
Gude  faith  !  her  bairns  were  nae-ways  petit, 
For  aft  she'd  gi'e  them  monie  a  lecture, 
And  lounder  them  past  a'  conjecture. 

Ae  morn  she  said.  "  Now,  Mr.  Skedd, 
It's  just  twal'  years  since  we  were  wed, 
The  bairn  is  sleepin'  in  the  cradle, 
The  twins  are  playing  in  the  stable, 
The  lave  ha'e  a'  gane  doon  the  brae. 
To  pu'  the  rasps  till  middle  day, 
Sae  now  gi'e  up  your  meditation, 
And  take  a  half-hour's  recreation; 
Ye  sit  and  read,  ye  sit  and  write, 
Ye're  drooned  in  thought  frae  morn  to  night, 
Your  mind  is  aye  upon  the  rax, 
Nae  mair  I  hear  your  canty  cracks; 
Suppose  we  gang  athwart  the  knowe, 
To  where  the  birks  and  willows  grow." 


»«< 


1 


r  j; 


hi 


fei 


vn 


4'i 


li- 


20ti 


HKETCIIES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


C!! 

c 

r 


m» 


ilHI 


The  giiidniau  gti'e  a  canty  laugh, 

And  soon  he  gat  his  hat  and  staff, 

Then  aff  they  gaed  wi'  cannie  trudge. 

Up  past  the  bonnie  Imwtliorn  hedge, 

Until  they  came  upon  the  bank, 

Wliere  willow  wands  were  waving  rank. 

And  then  she  looked  at  her  guidnian, 

And  said,  "  'Twas  here  our  love  began, 

And  since,  though  often  sair  and  sick, 

I've  kept  the  band  aye  in  the  nick, 

And  dune  my  best  in  every  shape 

To  keep  the  house  'ueath  thack  and  rape; 

Ikit,  now,  my  dear,  you  may  depend. 

At  last  I've  cotne  to  my  wit's  end; 

The  meal's  a'  dune  and  what  is  worse, 

I've  no  ae  penny  in  my  purse." 

He  ga'e  a  kind  o'  vacant  stare. 

And  said,  "  We'll  spend  an  hoiir  in  prayer." 
"  Na,  na,  "  quo'  she,  "  the  proverb  tells, 

•  The  Lord  helps  them  that  lielp  themsel's;' 

Just  look  at  a'  time  willow  wands. 

If  they  were  placed  in  nimble  hands, 

Ouidman  !  they're  supple  as  the  eels, 

And  easy  fashioned  into  creels; 

And  when  ance  made,  I'm  free  to  think, 

They  could  be  sold  as  quick  as  wink." 
"  What,  what,"  quo'  he,  "  what's  that  you  «ay  ? 

I'm  sure  I  could  make  one  per  day." 
"  Enough,"  she  said,  "this  afternoon 

The  bairns  will  sned  the  willows  doon;  " 

Sae  Mr.  Skedd  and  his  guid  dame 

Reversed  their  steps  and  trotted  hame. 


It  wasna'  lang  ere  routh  o'  wands 
Were  placed  in  ministerial  hands; 
lie  scarce  took  time  to  take  his  meals; 
And  in  sax  davs  he  made  sax  creels. 


Ae  day  the  guid  wife  to  him  went 
And  cried,  "  Come,  see  what  Heaven  has  sent," 
He  gazed,  then  into  raptures  flew 
His  auld  mealark  was  heapit  fou  ! 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


207 


At'  autumn  mom  afore  the  dawin' 
And  'fort'  the  cocks  began  a-crawin', 
He  raised  Ids  liead  frae  afT  the  pillow 
And  soon  besjfan  to  twist  the  willow; 
And  on  that  morn  lu  aft  did  say, 
"  Where  there's  a  will  there's  aye  a  way." 
Now  Mrs.  Skedd  when  she  arose. 
Sortn  filled  the  bickers  fou  o*  hrose ; 
And  then  she  said  to  daughter  Jean, 
"  Gac,  wipe  the  eob-wehs  frae  your  een, 
And  seek  your  fayther  in  the  study, 
And  tell  him  that  Ins  breakfast's  ready." 
The  lassie  ran  wi"  a'  lier  might, 
But,  oh  :  she  gat  an  unco  fright, 
She  stood  transli.xed  wi'  fear  and  awe, 
And  scarce  a  single  breath  coidd  draw. 
Her  eyes  seemed  as  they'd  burst  their  sphere-. 
Till  deluged  with  a  flood  o'  tears, 
And  then  she  spoke  in  words  of  wae, 
"  Fayther  !  this  is  the  Sabbath  day  ! "' 
The  creel  fell  doou  atween  liis  knees, 
His  wits  came  back  by  slow  degrees; 
He  rose  and  said,  "ye  little  jade. 
This  week  I've  only  five  creels  made." 
Then  she  cried  out  "  Satan  will  tak'  us, 
Thursday  ye  preached  at  Lockermacus; 
He  placed  his  hand  upon  her  head, 
He  looked  like  one- whose  life  had  fled; 
O  'twas  a  mournful  .sight  to  scan 
The  visage  of  this  holy  man. 
At  length  he  raised  his  eyes  to  Heavi.'n, 
And  prayed  his  sins  might  be  forgi\(;n. 


HI 


mw\ 


APPLICATION. 

Folk  :  the  kernel  of  this  tale  disceiu, 
And  never  be  too  old  to  learn; 
Wise  is  the  saw,  I  pray  attend  it, 
A  turn  begun  is  maist  half  endit; 
Jingle  and  jow  St.  Bathan's  bells— 
The  Lord  lielps  them  that  help  themsel's. 


II 


208 


SKKTCIIES    AND    ANKCUOTKS. 


REVIEWING  THE  CIRCUMSTANCES. 


c 

€ 


III! 


u  if. 


Willy  Dandy  was  a  driijErgist's  apprentice,  and  it  was 
considered  that  he  was  a  callant  that  possessed  niair  than 
ordinary'  al)ility.  When  he  reached  his  seventeenth 
year  a  great  change  overcame  him.  lie  turned  donnert 
and  absent-minded,  but  worst  of  all,  the  meat  he  took 
didna'  do  him  ony  guid,  and  the  result  was  that  he  fell 
awa'  to  perfect  skin  and  bone.  The  reason  assigned 
for  this  w.as  that  he  had  got  a  fearful  dose  of  calf-love. 
He  had  fallen  ower  head  and  ears  in  love  wi'  Bell  Pip- 
per,  alass  wha  belanged  to  the  singin'  band,  and  wha  skir- 
rled  in  the  Parish  kirk.  Ae  day  an  auld  wife  frae  Buncle 
entered  the  drug-shop,  and  frae  Willy  gat  a  quarter  of 
a  pound  of  Epsom  salts.  She  had  not  been  long  gone 
when  the  love-sick  blockhead  discovered  that  he  had 
given  her  a  quarter  of  a  pound  of  deadly  poison.  On 
becoming  aware  of  this,  his  heart  dunted  against  his 
ribs,  and  his  eyes  winked  and  blinked  as  if  they  were 
about  to  leap  out  of  their  sockets.  His  master  was 
from  home,  and  he  could  not  leave  the  shop  to  follow 
the  wife,  but  when  night  came  he  procured  a  horse  and 
rode  into  Buncle  at  full  gallop.  On  finding  the  auld 
wife's  house  he  flung  the  bridle-reins  on  the  neck  of  his 
horse,  and  dismounted  and  dashed  into  the  presence  of 
the  auld  wife.  He  found  her  half-naked,  sitting  at  the 
side  of  the  fire,  and  the  deadly  drug  in  a  tea-cup  sitting 
on  the  jamb-stane.  W^illy  immediately  roared  out  to 
her  :  "  Dinna  drink  the  drug,  it  is  poison  !  poison  ! 
poison  !  "  On  hearing  this  the  auld  wife  fell  into  a  fit — 
she  raised  her  hands  and  then  fell  head-long  upon  the 
floor.  On  observing  this  Willy  rushed  to  the  door, 
leaped  on  the  horse,  and  when  its  nose  was  turned  in 
the  home  direction  he  said  to  himsel',  "It's  a'  up  wi'  me 


SKKTf  IIES    AND    ANECDOTKS. 


20P 


„oo— I've  killed  licr  onyway."  When  the  auM  wifo 
came  to  her  mental  e(iiiilil,nuin  she  sat  up  on  tlie  floor, 
and,  on  reviewing  tlie  eireiinistanees,  she  said,  '*  Blast 
him,  if  I  couhl  i,'et  a  liaiid  o'  liim  I  wad  knock  the  day- 
lights oot  o'  him  I  " 


TlfK  TOWN  OK  WVAXDOTTK. 

Withui  tlic  bound'rios  o'  our  state. 

Way  up  to  Kowceniiw, 
There's  liills  and  dells  and  crystal  wells, 

And  monk'  a  spivnding  sliaw  ; 
But  'man,!,'  the  rounds  in  a'  the  bounds 

There's  not  so  sweet  a  spot, 
There's  not  a  place  more  dearer  than 

The  town  of  Wyandotte. 

It  stands  amang  the  waving  woods, 

Where  robins  sweetly  sing, 
And  where  the  sparrows  build  their  nests 

In  early  days  of  spring  ; 
Where  violets  bloom  and  roses  blush 

To  the  forget-me-not, 
Which  tlower  tiie  maidens  love  to  wear 

Who  dwell  in  Wyandotte. 

Though  Wyandotte  is  miles  away, 

My  thoughts  are  ever  there, 
For  in  a  cottage  now  resides 

My  chiefest  earthly  care. 
How  sad  the  day  !  how  sad  the  hour  ! 

Tears  from  my  eyelids  shot, 
When  my  wife  went,  four  weeks  to  spend 

Away  in  Wyandotte 

I  see  her  in  the  midnight  hour. 

I  saw  her  on  the  way. 
When  steaming  past  upon  the  boat 

Way  down  to  Put-in  Bay. 
When  steaming  back  I  sang  wi'  glee 

A  soHg  called  "  I'm  Atloat." 
When  something  whispered  in  my  ear— 

"Your  wife's  in  Wvandotte." 


■  - 1 


t  ,,  , 


Cut 
•m 

< 


r 


•ttii 


r      I 


',1 


.1 .  i 

j  1 

! 

1»       ! 

A 

!    . 

k^ 

;  I    t     . 

21U 


SKKTCIIKS    ANU    ANKCDOTKH. 


MRS.  SUKKUI.OCK. 

|lnserih»'il  to  Daviii  K.  IVvkrv,  Ks(|..  Ofiniii  | 

CoNTKNiMKNi"  is  great  i^aiii,  Jmt  vrrv  IVw  i^aiii  <'oii- 
teiittneiit  : — 

They  growl  at  this,  tlioy  ^irowl  ut  lliat, 

Tlicir  j.rrowliu'.s  ncvt-r  duiif, 
Tlit'V  ne'er  will  learn  to  sing  \vl'  me, 

Aye  iveep  the  heart  aliiine. 

TIjomas  Slieerloek  aii<l  Nannie,  his  wife,  lived  u)»  in  the 
moors  in  se(jiiestrated  phices,  and  neither  one  or  the 
other  knew  muoh  about  t^cMj^jrrapliy.  They  had  fre- 
quently heard  of  Anieriea,  and  had  talked  for  a  number 
of  years  regarding  the  feasibility  of  emigrating  to  that 
country.  One  winter's  nii;ht  Nannie  was  sittinj;  toast- 
ing  her  taes  at  a  [leat  fire  when  Thomas  entered,  and  lie 
threw  off  his  plaid,  hung  his  bonnet  on  a  i>in,  and  sat 
down  by  her  side.  "  Nannie,"  quo^  he,  "  I  ha'e  a  weighty 
lade  on  ma  mind,  and  I  wad  like  to  get  it  coupit.  I  met 
Tibbie  Stot  awa'  doon  in  the  dingle,  and  we  had  an  unco 
lang  haver  wi'  ane  anither."  "  Uless  ma  lieart,"  quo* 
Nannie,  "what  was  ye  haverin'  about?  I  trow  twa 
haverals  have  met  this  blessed  day."  "  I  will  soon  tell 
ye,"  quo'  Thomas,  "  if  ye  wad  only  hand  for  a  minute 
or  twa  that  lang  tongue  o'  yours.  Tibbie  Stot  and  a'  her 
family,  stick  and  stow,  are  bound  to  gang  to  America 
sae  soon  as  the  snaw  is  aff  the  ground,  and  the  March 
winds  blawn  past  ;  and  hearkin,  Nannie,  she  wants  you 
and  me  to  gang  alang  wi'  them."  "  Gang  alaiig  wi'  them! 
ne'er  ae  fit  will  I  gang.  D'ye  think  I  wad  leave  ma 
native  land  to  be  tossed  and  tumbled,  and  in  a'  likelihood, 
drooned  like  a  beast  in  the  raging  seas,  and  swallowed 
alive  hy  whales  and  other  sic  like  vermin.  But  hark  ye, 
guidman,  I  will  gang  wi'  you  to  America  upon  ae  condi- 


8KKTCIIEH    AND    4NKi?l>OTK8. 


211 


tioii."  "Aiul  what  is  that  coinlitionV"  eiiquirt'il  'riioiiiai*. 
"  V'o  wii<I  liki-  to  kt'ii  that,"  ivtortcMl  Naiinit*,  "but  that 
inatt<>r  Huh  no  atwi'fii  you  an<l  inc,  l>ut  atwooti  the  cap- 
tain o'  th<'  ship.  Sar  si't  yvrv  hooso  in  order.  an<l  wr  will 
be  in  ArnerirM  lani;  afore  'I'il»l>ie  Sfot  and  ht-rgraith,  lor 
1  we»l  I  wnt  I  tlinna  like  sic  «'onipaiiy  :  tor,  to  tell  ye  the 
e\en  (loon  truth.  Tibbie  Slot  has  nae  inuir  sense  than  a 
hatehin'  lu-n."  About  two  weeks  after  this  conversation 
this  worthy  couple  confrontetl  the  captain  of  a  ship 
bound  for  Atneri<*a,  and  before  their  passaj^e  money  was 
paid,  the  following;  conversation  between  the  captain 
and  Nannie  took  place  : 

Nannie — "Guid  rnornin';  are  ye  the  captain  o'  the 
shij*  that  sails  to  America':'" 

Captain—"  Yes." 

Nannie — '*  Will  ve  tak'  ma  Tamnias  and  me  if  ve 
get  us  V  " 

Captain—'*  Yes." 

Nannie — "  Upon  what  conditions  I  wad  like  to  ken." 

Captain — "Upon  the  conditions  that  both  of  you 
pay  your  passajLje  money." 

Nannie — "  Weel,  we  ajLjree  wi'  tliat  ;  but  hark  ye, 
ca[)tain,  the  ne'er  a  Hi  will  I  set  on  yere  ship  unless  ye 
aijree  wi'  ma  conditions,  and  stick  to  them  as  if  vere 
very  life  was  dependin'  on  their  fullfilment." 

Captain — "And  what  are  they?" 

Nannie — "After  comin'  a'  this  len,<^th  to  Greenock,  I 
hope,  captain,  ye  will  a<^ree,  and  if  ye  no  ai;ree.  Tamnias 
and  me  will  just  tak'  our  taps  in  our  laps  and  i^auL'  hame 
the  road  we  cam':  but  ve  look  like  a  man  wha  kens  a  H 
frae  a  bull's  tit,  and  if  ye  pass  yere  word  I  ha'e  nae  doot 
but  that  ye  will  act  up  to  ma  conditions,  and  my  condi- 
tions are  just  they  ;  and,  as  I  said  afore,  ye  can  either 


31 


212 


sketchp:s  and  anpxjdotes. 


CI. 
HI 


Nil 


agroo  to  them,  or  no  agree  to  them  ;  but  I  wad  like  if 
ye  wad  agree,  after  us  sellin'  our  coo  and  our  soo,  and 
our  duoks  and  our  liens,  our  chairs  and  our  tal)le8,  our 
patH  and  our  pans,  and  tlu'  very  cradle  that  our  bairns 
were  rocked  in " 

Captain — "I  am  in  a  hurry." 

Nannie—  '  llurrv  or  no  hurry,  there  is  luck  in  leisure 
ma  bonnie  man  ;  and  noo  I  ha'e  just  this  to  say,  that  we 
will  gang  wi'  you  if  ye  agree  to  tie  the  ship  to  a  tree 
duly  every  nicht." 

Captain — "  I51ess  my  soul  !  " 

Nannie — "  Aye,  ye  may  bless  yere  soul,  and  yere 
hody  into  the  bargain  ;  but  I  want  nane  o'  yere  willy- 
wal lying  ;  ye  maun  just  be  either  aff  or  on — either  say 
'  yes '  or  '  no,'  afore  ye  get  a  plack  o'  passage  money  f rae 
either  Tammas  or  me.  Ma  faith,  a  fine  story,  for  rae 
and  our  Tammas  to  be  rampagin'  through  the  goustie 
seas  at  the  black  hours  o'  midnight,  without  either  coal 
or  can'le  licht,  and  the  sun  doon  and  the  stars  hidden 
wi'  murky  cluds,  and  in  a  moment  the  winds  raicht 
come  up  and  blaw  us  to  the  deil  kens  where." 

At  the  conclusion  of  this  the  captain  gave  a  wink  to 
the  clerk  of  the  ship,  and  said,  "Take  the  passage  money 
from  this  worthy  couple,  and  give  them  a  receipt  in 
these  words — '  Received  from  Mrs.  and  Mr.  Sheerlock, 
ten  pounds  sterling,  payment  in  full  of  passage  money 
to  Quebec,  on  condition  that  the  ship  be  tied  to  a  tree 
every  night.'  " 

Nannie — "  Thank  ye,  captain,  man,  ye  ha'e  mair  sense 
than  I  ga'e  ye  credit  for.  Tammas,  pay  doon  the  siller, 
and  get  the  receipt,  and  whan  I  sew  it  into  ma  stays  we 
will  e'en  gang  and  get  our  kists  aboard,  and  may  the 
deevil  tak'  the  hindmaist." 


SKETCHES   AND    ANECDOTIi-,S. 


•2\S 


ilOT  WEATHEH. 

The  (lay  was  hot.  the  night  was  liot, 
Mair  hot  thuii  1  could  bare.  (). 

The  glass  that  hung  at  my  door  tlieck 
Stood  ninety  aboon  zero. 

I  scanie  could  draw  a  breath  ava, 

I  het  and  better  faund  it ; 
VVae's  mc,  thought  I,  e'en  Beelzebub 

Will  ha'e  a  job  to  stand  it. 

So  f rae  our  furnace  o'  a  hoose 

I  sought  a  change  o'  air, 
It  wasna'  lang  till  I  sat  doon 

Upon  a  barber's  cliair. 

A  patent  chair  the  barber  had, 
And  round  he  made  me  spin, 

And  soon  I  found  I  had  nae  hair 
On  lieatl,  on  cheek  or  chin. 

When  I  was  slowly  swelterin'  hame, 

My  faith,  but  I  felt  blythe. 
When  1  was  grippit  by  the  hand 

By  iMr.  John  Forsyth. 

Quoth  he,  "  A  sight  o'  you  is  good," 

Sae  after  some  mair  clatter 
Wi'  ae  accord  we  baitli  agreed 

To  drink  some  soda  water. 

When  in  the  parlor  John  remarked 
The  unco  heat  surj)ri.sed  him, 

And  that  ae  day  a  strong  sun  ray 
Had  very  near  capsized  him. 

We  had  ice  cream,  vanilla,  too. 
The  truth  must,  shall  be  spoken, 

That  aye  the  mair  we  drank  and  drank 
Our  drouth  we  couldna'  slocken, 

Guid  guide  us  a',  upon  this  night 

We  had  an  extra  session. 
Discussing  banes  and  antidotes 

And  social  progression. 


1 


it^ 


ti» 


11 


I.! 


214 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


C.«. 
Ml 

C 


€ 


••  ij: 


John  scamper'd  over  points  o'  faith. 

O'  Christian  theology, 
Then  over  head  and  ears  he  phingd 

Into  the  Greek  mythology. 

He  said,  "  The  apple  Paris  gave 

To  Venus  was  a  bonus. " 
He  praised  her  doves,  but  eursed  the  boar 

That  killed  her  dear  Adonis. 

"  Now  look,  'way  in  the  darksome  days 

Mankind  were  vile  and  vain, 
And  womankind  were  treated  with 

Contempt  and  cold  disdain. 

"  That  Adam  even  badgered  Eve 

With  words  o'  defamation, 
Which  proved  that  of  her  virtues  he 

Had  no  appreciation. 

"Had  she  but  lived  in  my  own  day 

It  would  have  been  an  honor 
If  she  had  sent  a  bare  request 

For  me  to  wait  upon  her. 

"  I'd  gone  and  would  have  ta'en  her  part, 

And  put  the  law  in  action. 
And  my  friend  ChambiTs,  in  his  court. 

Would  given  her  satisfaction. 

"  But  manners  now  are  greatly  chanij'd. 

The  lamp  of  reason's  lighted, 
Angelic  woman's  now  beloved, 

And  heartless  wrongs  are  righted. 

•*  Go  home."  he  cried,  "  take  my  advice. 

Go  home  and  seize  the  pen, 
And  urge  that  peace  may  be  maintained 

'Mong  women  and  'mong  men." 

The  soda  water  and  ice  cream 
Had  somewhat  cooled  our  brain. 

We  parted  tenderly  as  if 
We'd  never  meet  again. 


11^ 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


215 


When  I  got  homo  my  wife  rol)oir(l. 

And  sad  and  sair  did  <frit've  nif, 
She  said  she  would  pacii  up  her  duds 
And  gam?  awa  and  leave  me. 

She  ga'e  a  spring  to  rug  my  hair, 

And  to  pull  out  a  daud  o't, 
She  ga'e  a  start  when  she  foiuid  out 

She  couldiia'  get  a  liaud  o't. 

From  tids  event  I  may  comment  — 
Our  lives  are  tilled  wi"  wonders, 

That  men  and  hairns  and  even  wives 
Commit  most  .previous  blunders. 

Yet  notwithstanding  on  the  wall 

An  hour  ayonf  the  ten, 
I  wrote  these  w(jrds,  "May  peace  prevail 

"Mong  women  and  'niong  men.  ' 

Peace  may  prevail,  I  hope  it  may, 

Yet  I  will  bet  my  bonnet 
That  Satan  still  will  rule  the  tongue, 

And  hohl  his  mortgage  on  it. 


SANDY'S  WELL. 

"The  only  time  I  ever  saw  Sir  Walter  Scott,"  sai.1  my 
antiquarian  friend,  Robert  Howden,  "  was  aboot  the  year 
1830.      There  is  a  well    in   Gslashiels  kenned  by    the 
name  o'  '  Sandy's  Well,'  and  it  has  been  known  by  that 
name  frae  time  immemorial.     Noo,  yv  kon,  some    folk 
took  it  into  their  heads  to   niak'   some  alterations  on 
Sandy's   well,  and  some    folk  strongly  objected    there- 
unto.    To  see  about  this,  Sir  Walter  Scott,  then  Slicritf 
of  Selkirkshire,  was  sent  for  to  settle  the  dirdom.     Ae 
day  he  cam',  and  I  think  I  see  him  yet.     He  was  a  big 
man  wi'  an  unco  heavy  lang  face,  and  he  ha<l  a  grea] 
big  head.     He  carried  a  big  stick,  but  it  had  nae  head. 
We  a'   stood   round   the    well,  and   Sir   Walter  Scott 
listened  to  the  arguments  pro  and  eon.     At  the  conolii- 


;  i 


Y 


i!i 


216 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


sion  o'  them,  he  made  the  end  o'  his  stick  play  <lu!it  on 
the  ground,  and  then  he  said  in  guid  braid  Scotcli^ 
'  Nane  o'  ye  maun  dare  to  touch  Sandy's  well,  for  it  is 
public  property,  and  will  be,  sae  lang  as  water  rins  and 
grass  grows.' " 


c 

< 


IK; 


BONNIE  MAGGIE  GRAHAM. 

A  bounie,  bruw  and  winsome  bride 

Was  my  ain  Maggie  Graham, 
How  proud  was  I  to  set  her  doon 

In  my  auld  Scottish  hame. 
By  auld  and  young  it  was  allow'd 

In  a'  the  country  side, 
That  no  a  lass  iu  a'  the  land 

Could  match  my  bonnie  bride. 

Though  days  and  years  ha'e  fiitit  past. 

I  mind  it  yet  fu'  weel, 
How  in  tliu  wint'ry  nights  she'd  lay 

Aside  her  spinniii'  wheel; 
And  at  ii  clean  hearthstane  she'd  sit, 

And  sing  wi'  mickle   glee, 
The  bonnie  sangs  that  I  loe'd  best, 

She'd  sing  them  a'  to  me. 

The  auld  Scotch  sangs,  the  blythsome  saug»i. 

The  sangs  beyond  compare, 
She'd  sing  them  ower  and  ower  again, 

And  lighten  a'  ray  care. 
But  days  and  years  ha'e  come  and  gane, 

And  my  ain  Maggie  Graham, 
Nae  mair  will  sing  the  auld  Scotch  sangh 

In  my  auld  Scottish  hame. 

She's  sleepin'  sound  in  the  kirk-yard, 

And  gane  is  a'  m}'  glee; 
My  ain  true  love,  my  chosen  one 

Is  ta'en  awa  frae  me. 
My  hopes,  my  joys,  are  lied  awa, 

My  grief  nae  tongue  can  name; 
The  dead  leaves  fa'  upon  the  grave 

O'  my  ain  Maggie  Graham. 


:/: 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


217 


TPIE  AULD  SANGS. 
Hknry  a.  Ciianev,  Esq.; 

My  Dear  Sir— Some  time  ago  you  spoke  to  me 
regarding  the  «  P:volution  of  Song."  'l  beg  to  send  you 
the  following  resuscitations  : 

Perhaps  there  is  no  country  in  the  uorld  that  can 
boast  of  more  touching,  heart-felt  and  heroic  song  than 
Scotland.  Every  glen,  mountain  and  moor  is  celebrated 
in  song,  this  for  some  patriotic  deed,  and  the  other  for 
some  woefu'  tale  of  blighted  love  or  undying  affection. 
These  simple  and  artless  effusions  are  as  true  to  nature 
as  nature  is  true  to  herself,  and  were  handed  down  from 
generation  to  generation.  In  the  rural  districts  every 
lad  or  lass  had  their  bu<lget  of  ballad  or  song.  In  the 
long  winter  evenings  the  singing  or  recital  of  which 
were  a  never  failing  fund  of  instruction  and  amuse- 
ment.    To  quote  from  an  old  song — 

"  O  !  your  very  lieart  would  tingle 
To  hear  the  lads  and  lasses  round  the  farmer's  ingle. " 

These  species  of  amusements  are  well  illustrated  by 
Scott  in  his  *'  Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel,"  and  perhaps 
more  so  by  Hogg  in  the  "  (^leen's  Wake." 

This  Scottish  custom,  since  printing  became  so  gen- 
eral, has  now  in  a  great  measure  died  out.  The  mother 
of  the  last  named,  in  a  conversation  with  Sir  Walter 
Scott  in  regard  to  this,  thus  spoke  :  "  There  was  never 
ane  o'  ray  songs  printit  till  ye  printit  them  yoursel',  and 
ye  hae  spoilt  them  awthegether.  They  were  made  for 
singin'  and  no  for  reading,  but  ye  hae  broken  the  charm 
now,  and  they'll  never  be  sung  mair.  And  the  worst 
thing  o'  a'  they're  neither  right  spelled  nor  right  setten 
down." 

16 


I    < 


1„ 


218 


SKETCHES    AXD    AXECDOTES. 


^11 H. 


Such  amusements  were  not  confined  to  the  rural 
pripulation.  In  Bellenden's  Translation  of  Boece's  His- 
tory we  find  the  following  description  of  James  VI.  of 
Scotland,  and  I.  of  England  :  "  He  was  well  learnit  to 
fecht  with  the  sword,  to  just,  to  tournay,  to  worsyl,  to 
sing  and  dance  ;  was  an  expert  medicinar,  richt  crafty 
in  playing  baith  of  lute  and  harp,  and  sindry  other 
instruments  of  music  ;  he  was  expert  in  graraer,  oratory, 
and  poetry,  and  maid  sae  flowan'  and  sententious  verses 
— he  was  ane  natural  and  borne  poete." 

There  is  an  evolution  in  song,  and  to  point  out  this 
is  the  purpose  of  this  communication. 

For  Burns'  manly  song  of  "  For  a'  That  and  a'  That," 
we  are  indebted  to  a  Jacobite  song  entitled  "  He's 
Coming  Here."     The  first  of  which  I  quote  : 

"  Be  kind  to  me  as  lang'a  I'm  yours  ; 
I'll  maybe  wear  awa  yet ; 
He's  ooming  o'er  the  Highland  hills, 
May  tak'  me  frae  ye  a'  yet. 

He's  ooming  here,  he  will  be  here  ; 

He's  coming  here  for  a'  that, 
He's  coming  o'er  the  Highland  hilla 

May  tak'  me  frae  ye  a'  yet. 

The  arm  is  strong  where  heart  is  true, 

And  loyal  hearts  are  a'  that — 
Auld  love  is  better  aye  than  new, 

l^surpers  mauna  fa'  thai. 
He  s  coming  here,  etc." 

It  will  be  observed  that  Burns  almost  copies  the 
obscure  line,  "  Usurpers  mauna  fa'  that."  To  explain 
which  I  must  confess  is  beyond  my  comprehension. 
Burns'  well  known  song  of  "  The  Birks  of  Aberfeldy  " 
is  no  doubt  founded  on  the  following,  entitled  : 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


319 


THB   BIRK8  OK  ABKROELDY. 

t 

Bonnie  lassie,  will  ye  go, 
Will  ye  go,  will  ye  go, 
Bonnie  lassie  will  ye  go. 

To  the  birks  of  Abergeldy  ? 
Ye  sail  get  a  gown  of  silk, 
A  gown  of  silk,  a  gown  of  silk, 
Ye  sail  get  a  gown  of  silk 

And  a  coat  of  callimankie. 

Na,  kind  sir.  I  daurna  gang, 
I  daurna  gang,  I  daurna  gang, 
Na,  kind  sir,  I  daurna  gang. 

My  Minnie  will  be  angry. 
Sair,  sair,  wad  she  flyte. 
Wad  she  flyte,  wad  she  flyte  ; 
Sair,  sair,  wad  she  flyte 

And  sair  wad  she  ban  me. 

Burns'  song  of  « Duncan  Gray  "  no  doubt  took  ita 
rise  from  an  old  ditty  of  the  same  name.  The  first 
v^rae  I  quote  : 

"  Weary  fa'  you,  Duncan  Gray, 

Ha,  ha,  the  girdin'  o't, 
Wae  gae  by  you,  Duncan  Gray, 

Ha,  ha,  the  girdin'  o't, 
When  a'  *\c  lave  gae  to  their  play 
Then  I  maun  sit  the  lee  long  day. 
And  jog  the  cradle  wi'  my  tae. 

And  a'  for  the  <,'irdin'  o't." 

•■  We  are  indebted  to  Allan  liam.say  for  the  preserva- 
tion of  many  of  our  best  song.s.  ^' The  Yellow  Haired 
Laddie"  is  one  of  his  songs.  It  [^,  however,  copied 
from  an  older  version,  the  author  of  which  is  unknown: 

'•  The  yellow  hair'd  laddie  sat  down  on  yon  brae 
Cries  milk  the  ewes,  lassie,  let  nane  o'  them  gae, 
And  aye  as  she  milked,  and  aye  as  she  sang, 
The  yellow  hair'd  laddie  will  be  my  guidman . 


I 


it 


220 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


■  f 


i'-li:-;: 


urn 


Tht'  weather  is  cauld,  and  my  claithing  is  thin, 
The  ewes  are  new  dippit,  thoy  winna  bught  in, 
The  corn's  a'  shorn  and  the  liills  are  a'  bare 
And  I'll  never  sleep  wi'  my  mither  nae  mair. 

The  guidwife  cries  but  the  house  Monny  come  ben. 
The  cheese  is  to  mak'  and  the  butter  to  kirn.' 
Though  butter  and  cheese  and  a'  should  gae  sour 
I'll  crack  wi'  my  laddie  another  half  hour. 
Another  half  hour  will  e'en  mak'  it  three, 
For  the  yellow  hair'd  laddie  my  guidman  shall  be." 

One  of  our  best  songs  is  entitled  "  Fair  Helen,"  and 
according  to  Sir  John  Sinclair's  "Statistical  vVccount 
of  Scotland,"  "  she  was  a  daughter  of  the  family 
of  Kirkconnel,  and  fell  a  victim  to  the  jealousy  of  a  rival 
lover;  being  courted  by  two  young  gentlemen  at  the 
same  time,  the  one  of  whom,  thinking  himself  slighted, 
vowed  to  sacrifice  the  other  to  his  i-esentnu'ut  when  he 
again  discovered  him  in  her  com|)any.  An  opportunity 
soon  presented  itself,  when  the  faithful  pair,  walking 
along  the  romantic  bank  of  the  Kirtle,  were  discovered 
from  the  opposite  banks  by  the  assassin.  Helen  perceiv- 
ing him  lurking  among  the  bushes,  and  dreading  the  fatal 
resolution,  rushed  to  her  lover's  bosom  to  rescue  him 
from  danger,  and  thus  receiving  the  wound  intended 
for  another,  sank  and  expired  in  her  favorite's  arms. 
He  immediately  avenged  her  death,  and  slew  the  mur- 
derer." Tho  old  version  is  quaint  and  curious  and  rarely 
to  be  found  in  any  collection  of  songs.  I  transcribe  it 
entire : 

' '  O  sweetest  sweet  and  fairest  fair, 
Of  birth  and  worth  beyond  compare. 
Thou  art  the  causer  of  my  care. 
Since  first  I  loved  thee. 


8KBTCHK8    XSD    AXBCDOTES. 


221 


ben, 


iir 


l)e." 


?n,"  and 

family 
if  a  rival 
II  at  the 
slighted, 
when  he 
ortunity 

walking 
scovered 

perceiv- 
the  fatal 
icue  him 
intended 
j's  arms, 
he  miir- 
Qd  rarely 
scribe  it 


Yet  God  hath  given  to  me  a  mind, 
The  which  to  thee  shall  prove  as  kind, 
As  any  one  that  thou  shalt  find 
Of  hi^h  or  low  degree. 

The  shallowest  waters  make  maist  din, 
The  deadest  pool  the  deepest  linn; 
The  richest  man  least  truth  within 
Though  he  preferred  be. 

Yet  nevertheless  1  am  content 
And  never  a  whit  my  love  repent, 
But  think  the  time  was  a'  weel  spent 
Though  I  disdained  be. 

O  1  Helen  sweet  and  maist  complete. 
My  captive  spirit's  at  thy  feet  ! 
Think'st  thou  still  fit  thus  for  to  treat 
Thy  captive  cruelly  ? 

O  I  Helen  brave  !  but  this  I  crave, 
Of  thy  poor  slave  some  pity  have, 
And  do  him  save  that's  near  his  grave, 
And  dies  for  love  of  thee. " 

The  modern  version  thus  begins: 

"  I  wish  I  were  where  Helen  lies, 
Night  and  day  on  me  she  cries, 
O,  that  I  were  where  Helen  lies, 
On  fair  Kirkcounel  lea." 

There  is  only  a  step  from  the  sublime  to  the  ridicu- 
lous, and  here,  though  somewhat  out  of  place,  an  anec- 
dote may  be  introduced.  An  auld  Scotchman  had  a 
wife  whose  name  was  Helen.  In  the  course  of  nature 
sshe  died,  and  he  caused  to  be  placed  upon  her  tomb- 
stone these  lines  from  the  above  song: 

"  I  wish  I  were  where  Helen  lies, 
Night  and  day  on  me  she  cries." 

The  soul-stirring  and  perhaps  the  best  martial  song 
ever  written,  "  March,  March,  Ettrick  and  Teviotdale," 


M 


222 


8KKTCUE8    AND    ANUCDOTK8. 


■% 


I"" 

C 


r 


■t 

If 
It 


!!'     I 


first  appeared  in  Sir  W.  Scott's  novel  "The  Monastery '* 
ill  the  year  1820: 

Marcb,  march,  Ettrick  and  Teviotdale  I 

Why,  my  huls  tlinuu  ye  march  forward  Id  order  I 
March,  march,  Kskdalc  and  Liddisdale; 

All  the  blue  bonnets  arc  over  the  border. 
Many  u  banner  spread  flutters  above  your  head, 

Many  a  crest  that  is  famous  in  story; 
Mount  and  make  ready,  then,  sons  of  the  mquotainglen, 

Pight  for  your  queen  and  the  old  Scottish  glory. 

Come  from  the  hills  where  your  hirsels  are  grazing, 

Come  from  the  glen  of  the  bOck  ;\nd  the  roe; 
Come  to  the  crag  where  the  beacon  is  blazing 

Come  with  the  buckler,  the  lance  and  the  bow. 
Trumpets  are  sounding,  war  steeds  are  bounding; 

Stand  to  your  arms  and  march  in  good  order; 
England  shall  many  day  tell  of  the  bl«)ody  fray, 

When  the  blue  bonnets  are  over  the  border. " 

The  old  version  of  the  above  song  lirst  appeared  in 
"  Ramsay's  Tea  Table  Miscellany,"  but  he  neither  knew 
its  author  or  its  age.  It  is  entitled  "  General  Leslie's 
March  to  Longmarston  Moor."  It  possesses  little  or  no 
merit,  but  is  introduced  to  further  illustrate  the  object 
in  view: 

March,  march,  why  the  deil  dinna  ye  march  ? 

Stand  to  your  arms,  my  lads;  fight  in  good  order; 
Front  about,  ye  musketeers  all, 

Till  ye  come  to  the  English  Border, 

Stand  tiirt  and  fight  like  men, 

True  gospel  to  maintain: 
The  Parliament's  blythe  to  see  us  a-coming, 

When  to  the  kirk  we  come, 

We'll  purge  it  ilka  room 
Frae  popish  relics  and  a'  sic  innovation 

That  a"  the  world  may  see 

There's  nane  in  the  right  but  we 
Of  the  auld  Scottish  nation. 


,1.. 


8KKTCIIK8    AM)    ANK<;D0TBS. 


2  a;? 


»» 


Jenny  shall  wear  the  hood, 
.Fockic  the  surk  of  Oo(i; 
And  the  kisf  fu'  o'  whistles  that  inuks  sic  a  cleiro 
Our  pipers  braw 
Shall  hae  them  a" 
Whute'er  er)mes  on  it, 
Busk  up  your  j)lai(is.  my  lads, 
Cock  up  your  bonnets. 

Burns  sent  his  version  of  "Oh,  gin  my  love  were 
yon  red  rose,"  to  George  Thompson  of  KcJinburgh;  it  is 
founded  on  the  followinLr: 

O,  gin  my  love  were  yon  red  rose 
That  grows  upon  the  castle  wu', 

And  I  mysel'  a  drap  o'  dew, 
Down  on  that  red  rose  I  would  fa'. 

O,  my  love's  bonny,  bonny,  bonny. 

My  love's  bonny  and  fair  to  see; 
Whene'er  I  look  on  her  weel  far'd  tu(-e 

She  looks  and  smiles  again  to  me. 

O,  gin  my  love  were  a  pickle  o'  wheat, 

And  growing  upon  yon  lily  lee, 
And  I  my.sel'  a  bonnie  wee  bird, 

Awa'  wi'  that  pickle  o'  wheat  I  wad  rtee. 
O,  my  love,  etc. 

O,  gin  my  love  were  a  coffer  o'  gowd. 

And  I  the  keeper  o'  the  key, 
I  wad  open  the  kist  whene'er  I  list. 

And  in  that  coffer  I  wad  be. 
O,  my  love,  etc. 

Lady  Nairne,  the  authoress  of  the  king  of  rollicking 
songs—"  The  Laird  o'  Cockpen,"  lets  us  understand  that 
the  "  Laird,"  to  use  a  Scottish  phrase,  had  cast  a  sheep 
e'e  upon  McClish's  daughter,  who  was 

"  A  penniless  lass  wi'  a  lang  pedigree." 
Not  unlike  this  "  Mistress  Jean,"  the  very  best  of 
our  Scottish  lyrics  have  long  pedigrees,  and  many   of 


'■■  I. 


"1  ! 


224 


8KETCHE8    AXD    ANECDOTES. 


CIti 
,m 

C 


f 


lt| 


tliem  have  been  traced  up  to  the  fountain-head  of  vari- 
aV)le  doggerel;  while  others  again  have  been  dressed  up 
and  shorn  of  their  original  beauty  and  simplicity.  The 
well-known  song,  entitled  "  Maxwelton  Braes  are  Bon- 
nie," was  written  by  a  Mr.  Dojiglas  upon  one  of  the 
daughters  of  Sir  Robert  Lawrie,  according  to  Robert 
Chambers,  about  the  end  of  the  seventeenth  or  the  bo- 
ginning  of  the  eighteenth  century.  We  quote  the  fol- 
lowing, which  sounds  somewhat  curious  when  we  com- 
pare it  with  the  present  accepted  and  modern  version 
which  was  written  by  Lady  John  Scott,  one  of  the  tal- 
ented daughters  of  the  late  John  Spotswood,  Esq.,  of 
Spotswood,  Berwickshire: 

"  She's  backit  like  the  peacock, 
She's  breislit  like  the  swan; 
She's  jimp  about  the  middle, 
Her  Wiiist  ye  weel  might  span. 

"  Her  waist  ye  weel  might  span, 
And  she  has  a  rolling  e'e, 
And  for  bonnie  Annie  Laurie 
I'll  lay  me  down  and  dee." 

Regarding  the  words  to  the  air  of  "  Auld  Lang 
Syne,"  Sir  Robert  Aytoun,  who  died  in  1638,  wrote  a 
long  ballad  with  the  above  caption,  and  according  to 
some  authorities  he  is  believed  to  have  been  indebted  to 
a  still  older  version,  which  perhaps  never  appeared  in 
print.  I  submit  the  first  two  verses  of  Aytoun's  rendi- 
tion : 

"Should  old  acquaintance  be  forgot, 

And  never  thought  upon, 
The  flames  of  love  extinguished 
And  freely  past  and  gone  ? 

,  Is  that  kind  heart  now  grown  so  cold 

In  that  loving  breast  of  thine, 
That  thou  cans't  never  once  reflect 
On  Auld  Lang  Syne  ?  " 


i\    ' 


1 


HKKTCIIES    AND    ANBCDOTRR. 


325 


Allan  Ramsay'H  song  in  the  "  Tea  Table  Miscellany" 
thus  begins: 

"  Should  an  Id  arcnuiintHnce  bf  forgot. 
Tliough  they  return  with  scars  '! 
These  are  the  noble  hero's  lot 
Obtained  in  glorious  wars. 

Welcome  my  Varo  to  my  breast, 

And  arms  about  me  twine, 
And  make  me  once  again  as  blest, 

As  I  was  Langsyne." 

Next  I  recall  the  first  of  "The  Old  Minister's  Song," 
written  by  the  Rev.  John  Skinner,  the  author  of  "  Tul- 
lochgorm,"  and  other  songs  in  the  Scottish  vernacular: 

"  Should  auld  acquaintance  be  forgot, 
Or  friendship  e'er  grow  cauld  ? 
Should  we  nae  tighter  draw  the  knot 
Aye  as  we're  growing  auld. 

How  comes  it  then  my  worthy  friend, 

Wlia  used  to  be  sac  kin', 
We  dinna  for  ilk  i'ther  speer 

As  we  did  Langsyne." 

A  minister  in  Perthshire,  whose  name  has  escaped 
my  memory,  penned  the  following  curiosity: 

"  Shoul<l  Gaelic  speech  be  e'er  forgot,  JL 
And  never  brought  to  niin', 
For  she'll  be  spoke  in  paradise 
In  days  o'  Auld  Lang  Syne  ! 

When  Eve,  all  fresh  in  )  eauty's  charms 

First  met  fond  Adan/s  view, 
The  first  words  that  he'll  .spoke  to  lior 

Was  "  Cum  ar  asliun  dhu." 

And  Adam,  in  bis  garden  fair. 

Whene'er  the  day  did  dose. 
The  dish  that  he  for  supper  teuk 

Was  always  Athole  brose. 


■Iff 

i 


oCtfy^  t{-e^^\/Jio 


28. 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


C 


f 


I. 
itc 


When  Adiim  frae  his  leafy  bower 

Cam'  oot  iit  break  o'  day, 
He  always  for  his  mornin'  teuk 

A  quaich  o'  usquebae. 

And  when  wi'  Eve  he'll  had  a  crack, 
He'll  tiuik  liis  aneeshin'  horn, 
.    And  ou  tlie  lap  ye'll  weel  micht  mark 
A  poiiny  braw  Cairngorm. 

The  sueeshin'  mull  is  flue  my  frien's, 

7'he  snt?eshiu'  mull  is  grand: 
We'll  teuk't  a  hearty  sneesh,  my  frien's, 

And  pass't  frae  hand  to  hand. 

When  man  first  faund  the  want  o'  claee. 

The  wind  and  cauld  to  tieg; 
He  twisted  round  about  his  waist 

The  tartan  philabeg. 

And  music  first  on  earth  was  heard 

In  Gaelic  accents  deep, 
When  Jubal  in  his  oxter  squeezed 

The  jaudie  o'  a  sheep. 

Regarding  th'e  now  popular  song  of  "  Auld  Lang 
Syne,"  Burns  never  claimed  it  as  his  own.  In  relation 
to  which  Dr.  Charles  Mackay  thus  remarks:  "It  is  cur- 
ious to  reflect  that  the  most  popular  song  ever  written 
in  these  islands,  that  of  *  Auld  Lang  Syne,'  is  anony- 
mous; and  that  we  know  no  more  of  the  author  of  the 
music  tharf  we  do  of  the  author  of  the  words.  It  is 
equally  curious  to  reflect  that  so  much  of  Burns'  fame 
rests  upon  this  song,  in  which  his  share  only  amounts  to 
a  few  emendations."  Burns  considered  that  the  old  tune 
adapted  to  his  song  in  "  Johnt«on's  Museum"  was  but 
mediocre,  and  Thompson  got  the  words  arranged  to  the 
air  "  I  Feid  a  Lad  at  Michaelmas,"  to  which  that  song 
is  now  always  sung.  In  "  Cumming's  Collection "  it 
appeared  under  the  title  of  the  "  Miller's  Wedding." 
Neil  Gow  in  one  of  his  collections  called  it  the  "Millei-'s 


SKETCUE8    AND    ANECDOTES. 


22' 


Daughter,"  and  in  another  gives  it  the  name  of  *'Sir 
Alexander  Don's  Strathspey,"  Dr.  Charles  Mackay 
Btateis  that  the  air  of  "Auld  Lang  Syne"  "appears  to 
have  belonged  to  the  Roman  Catholic  church  and  to 
England  quite  as  much  as  to  Scotland." 

In  corroboration  of  Dr.  Mackay's  remarks  regarding 
Auld  Lang  Syne,  above  referred  to,  I  copy  from  an  old 
song-book  in  my  possession  the  original  words,  so  the 
reader  may  trace  the  alterations  made  by  the  Ayrshire 
bard : 

Should  auld  acquiilutauce  be  forgot 

An'  never  brought  to  mind; 
Should  auld  acquaintance  be  forgot, 
An'  days  o'  langsyne. 

For  auld  langsyne,  my  dear, 

For  auld  langsyne; 
We'll  tak'  a  cup  o'  kindness  yet 
For  auld  langsyne. 

We  twa  hae  run  about  tiie  braes, 

An'  pu'd  the  gowans  fine; 
But  we've  wander'd  mony  a  weary  f(x>t 

Sin'  auld  langsyne. 

For  auld  langsyne,  etc. 

We  twa  hae  paidle't  in  the  burn. 
When  simmer  days  were  prime, 
But  seas  between  us  baith  hae  roar'd 
Sin'  auld  lang.syne. 

For  auld  langsyne,  etc.  ^ 

An'  there's  a  haiid  my  trusty  feire, 

An'  gi'es  a  hand  o'  thine. 
Syne  toom  the  cup  to  friendship's  growth 

An'  auld  lang.syne. 

For  auld  lang.syne,  etc. 

An'  surely  ye'll  be  your  pint  stoup 

As  sure  as  I'll  be  mine, 
An'  we'll  tak'  a  right  gude  willie-wauglit 
,  For  auld  langsyne. 

For  auld  lang.syne,  etc. 


f 
1 

"'I 

at 


-'      i 


228 


SKETCHES   AND    ANECDOTES. 


Ml 


c:: 

C 

r 


■■II 


"  .John  Anderson,  my  Joe,  John,"  is  also  an  old  song. 
According  to  many  authorities  John  Anderson  was  the 
town  piper  of  Kelso,  Scotland.  One  authority  for  this 
may  be  cited  that  of  Robert  Chambers  in  "  The  Picture 
of  Scotland."  He  there  says,  "  A  former  town  piper  of 
Kelso  is  said  to  have  been  the  original  John  Anderson 
of  the  song  and  air  of  that  name."  There  is  a  tradition 
that  John  Anderson  was  a  baker  by  trade,  and  a  piper 
and  wag  by  profession.  This  is  in  a  measure  confirmed 
by  the  local  rhyme,  which  has  never  appeared  in  print, 
having  escaped  the  notice  of  both  Robert  Chambers  and 
Dr.  Henderson  in  their  collections  of  Scottish  rhymes  : 

Anderson,  panderson,  bakit  a  pie, 
And  sent  it  up  to  John  McKie. 
As  John  McKie  broke  his  fast 
Anderson  panderson  blew  a  blast; 
John  McKie  then  gave  a  groan, 
Then  cried  "  My  day  of  grace  is  gone. 
Oh  !  bury  me  'neath  the  willow  tree. 
Or  drown  me  in  the  saut,  saut  sea." 

Bishop  Percy  in  his  "  Reliques  of  Ancient  English 
Poetry  "  remarks :  It  is  a  recorded  tradition  in  Scotland 
that  at  the  time  of  the  reformation  ridiculous  and  ob- 
scene songs  were  composed  to  be  sung  by  the  rabble  to 
the  tunes  of  the  most  favorite  hymns  in  the  Latin  ser- 
vice." Among  the  number  he  mentions  "  Maggie  Lau- 
der "  and  "  John  Anderson,  My  Joe."  The  first  verse 
of  the  last  named  thus  runs.     I  retain  the  original  spell- 


ing: 


"John  Anderson,  my  Jo,  Johu,  cum  in  as  ze  gae  by 
And  zc  shall  get  a  sheip's  held  weel  baken  in  a  pye; 
Weel  baken  in  a  pye,  and  a  haggis  in  a  pat, 
John  Anderson,  my  Jo,  John,  cum  in  and  ze's  get  that." 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


229 


igUsh 


In  Brash  and  Reid's  collection,  entitled  "  Poetry, 
Original  and  Selected,"  and  printed  in  penny  numbers 
between  the  years  1795  and  1798,  a  long  version  of  the 
song  appeared.  It  was  there  stated  to  have  been  "  im- 
proved "  by  Robert  Burns.  It  is  not,  however,  to  be 
found  in  the  "  Kilmarnock,"  the  "  Falkirk,"  or  the  first 
and  second  Edinburgh  editions  of  the  poet's  works. 
Burns,  as  the  song  is  now  sung,  sent  it  to  "  Johnson's 
Museum,"  and  in  a  letter  to  George  Thompson,  dated 
April  7,  1798,  he  claims  it  as  his  own  composition.  Dr. 
Currie  in  his  edition  accepted  this  version,  but  left  out 
the  long  verses  of  Brash  and  Reid's,  the  first  verse  of 
which  maj'^  be  quote<l: 

.roliii  Amlerson,  my  Jo,  John,  I  wonder  what  you  mean, 
To  rise  sae  soon  in  tlie  morning,  and  sit  up  sae  late  at  e'en 
Yell  blear  out  a'  your  een,  John,  and  why  should  you  do  >io  ': 
Gang  sooner  to  your  bed  at  e'en.  John  Anderson,  my  Jo." 

Regarding  the  tune  of  "John  Aiulerson,"  Mr.  Sten- 
house,  a  most  excellent  authority,  informs  us,  "though 
long  handed  down  by  oral  tradition,  it  was  committed  to 
paper  as  early  as  1579,  in  Queen  Elizabeth's  Virginal 
Book,  which  is  still  preserved." 

Burns,  as  is  well  known,  was  in  the  habit  of  collect- 
ing the  floating  songs  of  the  country,  on  some  of  which 
he  founded  original  songs,  and  others  he  furbished  up 
and  made  them  more  presentable  to  the  public  taste. 

The  songs  and  airs  of  Scotland  are  so  prolific  that 
all  the  world  to  her  are  more  or  less  indebted.  Even 
the  Irish  song  "  Wearing  of  the  Green,'*  the  tune  of 
which  is  taken  body  and  sleeves  from  the  well-known 
bachanalian  song,  "Sae  Will  We  Yet."  They  are  wel- 
come; for  sir,  "does  not  song  to  the  world  belong?" 


til| 
m4 


% 


J' 


330 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


1 

i 

c 

c 

r 


Itl 


'i-  iliii  ■ 


i»  ^  I ;!  ;  I 


A  DRAP  O*  YON. 

At  Coberspeth  a  fishwife  liv'd 

Away  ayont  Dunbar, 
And  maybe  there's  been  better  wives, 

And  maybe  there's  been  waur. 
Guidfaith,  she'd  neither  work  or  want. 

She  just  wad  sit  and  groan, 
8he  ne'er  was  weel,  but  weel  she  liked 
To  drink  a  drap  o'  yon . 

Just  a  drap  o'  yon,  John, 
Just  a  drap  o'  yon, 
O,  dear  me,  I'm  like  to  dee, 
Oh,  bring  a  drap  o'  yon, 

She  ne'er  was  kent  to  wash  her  face, 

And  if  accounts  are  true, 
She  ceased  to  goam  the  muckle  creel 

And  cry  out  "cjiller,  oo." 
'  Midst  granes  and  graunts  she'd  tak'  the  M  runts, 

And  roar  "  I'm  dead  and  gone; " 
Touts  !  naething  would  relieve  the  jade 

But  just  a  drap  o'  yon. 

Just  a  drap  o'  yon,  John,  etc. 

Ae  day  the  bottle  had  run  dry. 

She  cried,  "Oh  I  mercy  me; 
John,  haste  and  ride  unto  Dunbar 

And  fill  ittothee'e." 
The  horse  was  standin'  at  the  door. 

And  as  he  leap'd  thereon. 
She  roared:  "  Oh,  ride  'tween  death  and  life 

And  bring  a  drap  o'  yon." 

Just  a  drap  o'  yon,  John,  etc. 

Fast,  fast  and  furious  he  did  ride. 

But  slowly  he  cam'  hame. 
For  aft  he  preed  the  wee  drap  drink 

That  he  coft  for  his  dame, 
And  when  he  landed  at  the  door 

She  cried,  "  Oh  !  hurry,  John," 
Quo'  he,  "  Oh,  me,  the  deil  take  me, 

Alas!     I've  drunken  yon." 

Just  a  drap  o'  yon,  John,  etc. 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTEja. 


231 


She's  got  a  stick  baith  tliick  and  lang, 

Like  fire  she  at  him  flew: 
She's  thrashed  him  up,  she's  thrashed  him  doon. 

She's  thrashed  him  bhick  and  blue  ! 
She  ordered  him  to  mount  again, 

Which  he  did  wi'  a  groan, 
Ance  mair  he  rides  wi*  banes  a'  sair 

To  get  a  drap  o'  yon. 

Just  a  drap  o'  yon,  John.  etc. 

Ance  mair  he's  back  at  his  door  step, 

He  stagger'd  ben  the  hoose. 
And  there  he  saw  his  guidwife  sit 

As  silent  as  a  moose  ! 
Wi'  dread  he  spoke,  he  might  as  weel 

Ha'e  spoken  to  a  stone, 
Her  lowe  o'  life  had  flickered  oot— 

She  died  for  lack  o'  yon  ! 

Just  a  drap  o'  yon,  John,  etc. 


THE  DUOUTHY  YEAR. 
The  year  1826,  in  Scotland,  was  a  remarkably  dry 
year.     Great  heat  prevailed   and  the  very  earth  gaped 
and  cracked  for  lack  of  moisture.     It  is   remem'bered 
8tiU  by  the  olden  people  as  the  "  drouthy  year."     The 
Rev.  Mr.  Thompson  was  then  minister  of  Melrose.     He 
was  a  man  who  read  the  book  of  nature  by  the  light  of 
the  lamp  of  reason,  and  did  his  best  to  trace  the  work- 
ings of  nature  up  to  natural  causes.     One  day  a  num- 
ber of  his  parishioners  waited  upon  him  and  with  solemn 
faces  desired  him  to  pray  for  rain.     ''  No,"  he  replied, 
"I  can  not  do  that,  for  what  would  weet  Gattonside- 
braes  would  drown  the  folk  in  Hell-"  here  the  gentle- 
man's memory  failed  him,  but  when  it  again  serve'd  him, 
he  added  with  a  grin,  "  Hellinshaws."     "  Brethren,"  he' 
continued,  "to  make  matters  more  plain,  the  rain  may 
do  for  the  high  hills  of  Gattonside,  but  it  winna  do  ava 
for  the  low  lying  lands  o'  Hellinshaws." 


I 

i 


ill 


232 


.SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


:    I  il 

Ci»i 

c 


( 


I  ! 


n    i' 


THE  STORY  OP   PRINCE  CHARLES  STUART. 

[Inscribed  to  Rev.  J.  F.  Dickie,  Detroit.] 

I  may  remark,  prefatory,  that  John  Erskine,  Earl  of 
Mar,  raised  the  standard  on  the  Braes  o'  Mar  in  the  year 
1715,  with  the  design  of  re-establishing  the  Stuart  line 
of  kings.  Many  of  his  followers  were  taken  prisoners, 
but  he  with  others  escaped  to  France.  He  was  un- 
true to  the  Stuart  cause,  and  died  at  Aix-la-Chapelle  in 
I  7-'^J.  Tames  Stuart,  but  better  known  bv  the  name  of 
the  T*"*  ider,  was  heir  to  the  unhappy  fortunes  of  the 
House  oi  Stuart.  As  is  well  known,  he  was  an  exile 
and  resided  in  France.  An  original  letter  written  by 
Robertsou  of  Str'\v;in,  also  an  exile,  was  presented  to  ino 
by  my  friend  William  Stewart,  Esq.,  Sarnia,  Ontario, 
and  as  it  throws  some  light  upon  a  remarkable  page  of 
history,  I  copy  it  verbatim  : 

Lyons,  10th  19th,  1716,  S.  X. 
iVlY  Lord  : 

In  obedience  to  Your  Grace  I  am  come  to  this  J..entlu 
V)ut  the  severity  of  the  season  obliges  me  to  Breath  a  litle 
in  this  place.  I  thought  Apin  wou'd  have  been  ready 
as  soon  as  Major  Frazer  and  me,  but  he  complained  of 
an  illness  the  day  before  we  parted  from  Paris,  so  we 
missed  of  that  Happiness.  Hugh  Wallas  of  Inglesson 
joynd  us  at  Shallon  four  days  agoe  and  tells  me  he  and 
Apin  came  together  the  lenth  of  Soignies  but  Apin  find- 
ing himself  uneasy  in  this  journey  thought  it  better  to 
return  to  Gante  than  come  on  to  Avignon  till  he  gets  a 
more  pressing  order  from  Your  Grace  than  that  of  com- 
ing as  soon  as  he  can.  This  distemper  of  his  occasions 
various  speculations,  especially  since  some  of  the  king's 
friends  suspected  there  was  sum  tampering  with  my 
Ld's  Stairs  which  Apin  thought  fitt  to  keep  up  from  his 
Brethren  sufferers;  Mr.  Wallas  will  inform  Your  Grace 
more  of  this  matter  when  he  arrives  at  Avignon;  You4' 
Grace  knows  what  use  to  make  of  this  to  the  best 
advantage  of  the    King's  Interest.      I   shall  have   the 


N. 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTKS.  23.'i 

honor  to  sahite  Your  ^race  a<rainst  Frieda v  or  Satin- 
day  next,  and  rejoice  witli  yon  at  the  king  f^ir  maKter^ 
recovery.     Till  then  and  for  ever  I  am  my  Lord 

Your  Graces  most  obliged  and  most 'obedient  h.im- 
Dle  servant 

ROBERTSON  OF  STKOWAN. 

The  rebellion  in  Scotland  in  1746-0  is,  what  may  be 
tenned  the  second  edition  of  the  rebellion  of  I7ir,,".vn,{ 
is  one  of  the  most  remarkable  events  in  the  history  of 
nations.  Tlie  cause  of  the  house  of  Stuart  to  all  appear- 
ance was  dead,  but,  as  if  by  magic,  it  sprang  into  life, 
and  at  every  step  in  advance  of  Bonnie  Prince  Charlie! 
King  George,  or,  as  he  was  termed,  the  "wee,  wee,  Ger- 
man lairdie,"  trembled  in  his  shoes,  and  it  is  said  was  on 
the  very  point  of  flying  to  the  continent.  Though  much 
has  been  written  on  the  history  of  that  rebellion,  yet  it 
is  best  written  and  better  understood  in  the  JaJobite 
minstrelsy  of  that  period.  For  example,  the  «  welcome  " 
to  the  son  of  the  Pretender  is  given  with  no  lukewarm- 
Dess  : 

"He  cotnes.  he  comes,  the  hero  comes, 
Sound,  sound  your  trumpets,  beat  your  drums  ; 
From  port  to  port  let  ciinnons  rour 
His  welcome  to  the  British  shore." 

Another  song  thus  terminates  : 

"  Then  let  the  flowing  quaich  go  round, 
And  loudly  let  the  pibroch  sound, 
Till  every  glen  and  rock  resound 
The  name  of  Ro3'al  Charlie." 

In  the  same  tenor  but  in  ;i  livelier  measure  another 
runs  thus : 

"  O,  merry  may  the  keel  row. 

The  keel  row,  the  keel  row,' 

Merry  may  the  keel  row, 

The  ship  that  my  love's  in. " 
16 


1 

■n 

i 
■#' 

i 


M 


(,: 


h  I  i ' 


234 


SKKTCIIES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


iM 


"'■ !  m; 


^'"ilil! 


m\ 


Ml 


We  conclude  the  songs  of  "  welcome  "  with  the  fol- 
lowing beautiful  verse  : 

"The  sun  shines  out — wide  smiles  the  s.-ii. 
The  lily  blossoms  rarely  ; 
O,  yonder  comes  Ids  gallrtnt  ship  I 
Thrice  welcome  royal  Ciiarlie." 

The  songs  of  "  triumph  "  are  as  strong  as  w.»nls  can 
make  them  : 

"  I  swear  by  moon  and  stars  so  bright, 
And  sun  that  glances  early, 
If  I  had  twenty  thousand  lives 
I'd  gi'e  them  a'  for  Charlie." 

Ifighland  hearts  are  as  one  : 

"  See  the  northern  clans  advancing  ! 
See  Glengary  and  Lochiel  1 
See  the  brandish'd  broad  swords  glancing  I 
Highland  hearts  are  true  as  steel." 

The  ladies  of  Scotland  were  wild  with  enthusiasm  for 
Prince  Charlie,  and  it  has  been  remarked  bv  more  than 
one  historian  if  it  had  not  been  for  them  the  rebellion 
would  never  have  attained  such  magnitude: 

"  Oh  I  better  lov'd  he  canna  be  ; 

Yet  when  we  see  him  wearing 
Our  Highland  garb  sae  gracefully, 

'Tis  aye  the  mair  endearing. 
Though  a'  that  now  adorns  his  brow 

Be  but  a  simple  bonnet, 
Ere  lang  ye'll  sec  of  Kingdoms  three 

The  royal  crown  upon  it.'' 

Bright  was  the  prospect,  all  were  ru-.|iing  to  hi.s 
standard  : 

•'  Duncan's  coming.  Donald's  coming. 
Colin's  coming,  Uoual's  coming, 
Dougal's  coming,  Lauchlun's  coming, 
Alaster  and  a's  coming. 


SKKTGHES    AXD    ANECDOTES. 


235 


Borland  and  his  men's  coming, 
Cameron  and  McLean's  coming, 
Gordon  and  McGregor's  coming, 
Ilka  Dunywastle's  coming." 

I  may    here   explain    that   the  word  "  Dunywastle  " 
means  Iligliland  laird  or  gentleman. 

How  sad  and   sorrowful  is  the  wail  of  disaster  and 
defeat.     Prince  Charles  is  thus  described  : 

"  On  hills  that  are  by  right  his  aiu. 

He  roams  a  lonely  stranger  ; 
On  ilka  hand  he's  pressed  by  want, 

On  ilka  side  by  danger. 
Yestreen  I  met  him  in  a  glen, 

My  heart  near  bursted  fairly, 
For  sadly  changed  indeed  was  he, 

Oh  !  wae's  me  for  Prince  Charlie." 

Beautiful  is  the   poem  written  by  Smollett  entitled 
" The  Tears  of  Scotland."     We  quote  the  first  lines  : 

"  Mourn,  hapless  Caledonia,  mourn 
Thy  banished  peace,  thy  laurels  torn  ! 
Thy  sons  for  valor  long  renowned 
Lie  slaughtered  on  their  native  ground. 
Thy  hospitable  roofs  no  more 
Invite  the  stranger  to  the  door, 
In  smoky  ruins  sunk  they  lie, 
The  monuments  of  cruelty." 

The  following  verse  recalls  the  words  of  0>,sian— 
^'They  are  silent  ;  silent  forever  !  Ould,  cold,  are  tiieir 
breasts^of  clay;" 

"  Shades  of  the  mighty  and  the  brave 

Who  faithful  to  your  Stuart  fell  ; 
No  trophies  mark  your  ccnuinou  grave, 

No  dirges  to  your  meuiury  swell, 
But  generous  hearts  will  weep  your  fate 

When  far  has  rolled  the  tide  of  time  ; 
And  bards  ui^born  will  renovate 

Your  fading  fame  in  loftiest  rhyme." 


I 

iifj 


It 

|i 

l\ 

.i  i 


(ri. 


c 

r 


■M 

■i* 
•■«j 


ll.a,:j 


';f     Ci.|. 


IN 


286 


SRBTCUES    AJ*D    ANECDOTES. 


The  works  descriptive  of  tliis  rebellion  are  mainlj 
one-sided.  It  would  be  even*  manly  for  an  enemy  to 
shed  a  tear  over  the  braves  who  fell  fighting  against  a 
forlorn  hope  on  dreary  CiiUoden  moor.  Tliere  are 
except  ions,  liowever,  to  this  feeling.  I  have  before  me 
a  work  by  James  Ray,  volunteer  under  his  royal  liigh- 
ness  the  Du!<e  of  Cumberland,  entitled,  "A  Complete 
Hifilorv  of  the  Rebellion,  From  its  Rise  in  1745  to  its 
Total  Suppression  at  the  Glorious  Battle  of  Culloden,  in 
April,  1746." 

Tins  work  was  printed  in  1758,  and  is  now  rarely  to 
be  met  with.  In  the  extracts  hereafter  given  the  reader 
will  perceive  how  virulent  he  is  against  the  Prince  and 
all  his  adherents. 

In  the  summer  of  1745  the  frigate  Elizabeth  sailed 
from  Britany  with  the  youthful  Prince,  accompanied 
with  about  fifty  Scotch  and  Irish  gentlemen.  They 
landed  at  Skye,  and  the  Prince  first  received  a  kindly 
welcome  to  the  land  of  his  fathers  by  McDonald  of 
Kinloch  Moidart.  The  event  of  his  landing  spread  like 
wild-fire  through  the  length  and  breadth  of  the  land : 

"  Tli(3  news  frae  Moidiut  cani'  yestrecu 
Will  soon  gar  mony  t'erlie, 
For  ships  o'  war  have  just  come  iu 
And  landed  Royal  Charlie. 

There's  ne'er  a  lass  in  a'  thu  land 

But  vows  both  late  and  early, 
To  man  she'll  ne'er  gi'e  heart  or  hand, 

Who  wadna'  fight  for  Charlie." 

The  Prince  was  soon  joined  by  the  Camerons,  Mc- 
Donalds ;tnd  Stuarts,  and  on  the  16th  day  of  August 
his  standard  was  raised  with  the  motto,  "Tandems 
Triumph;in8." 


8KETCUK8    AVD    ANECD0TK8. 


2M7 


mainlj 
omy  to 
linst  a 
re  are 
'ore  me 
1  hlgh- 
mipk'te 
5  to  its 
xleii,  itJ 

ari'ly  to 
3  reader 
nee  and 

til  sailed 
mpanied 

.  They 
a  kindly 
jnald  of 
read  like 
and : 


ons,  Mc- 
August 
Tandems 


In  a  letter  date.l  "Perth,  lOth  tSept.,  1745,"  the 
young  chevalier  tliiis  addresses  his  father  : 

"I  have  ocfiision  ovcrv  day  to  retlret  upon  Yr  M — y's  last 
words  to  iiie  Uiat  I  would  find  I'ower.  if  it  wits  not  accornpiuiy'd 
with  Justice  and  ClUinii'iiey,  an  uneasy  tijitig  to  myself,  and 
griiivous  to  tlio;^!'  uii(h;r  me.  It's  to  ye  obsoivanco  of  tiii.s  Rule 
find  my  conforming;  myriclf  to  yt;  customs  of  thf.vso  people,  that  I 
ha.\c  got  their  llcarls  to  a  I)(;gieo  not  to  be  easily  conceived  by 
those  who  do  not  see  it. 

"Then;  is  one  thing  antl  biit  one,  in  which  I  have  had  any 
DitTerence  with  my  faithful  Jligldandcrs.  It  was  about  setting 
a  j)ricc  ui)on  my  Kin.sman's  head — which,  knowing  Yr  Ma— 8 
geaerous  humanity,  1  am  sure  will  shock  you,  as  much  as  it  did 
me.  When  J  was  sliewn  ye  I^-oclamation  setlitig  a  price  on  my 
Head,  I  smil'd  &  treated  it  with  ye  Disdain  it  de.serv'd.  Upon 
which  they  licw  into  a  most  violent  rage  &  insisted  uj)on  my  doing 
ye  same  by  him.  As  this  llow'd  solely  from  yc  poor  men's  love 
and  concern  for  me,  1  did  not  know  how  to  be  angry  with  them 
tor  it,  and  tried  to  bring  them  to  Temper  by  representing  to 
them  that  it  was  a  Mean  Barbarous  practice  among  Princes,  that 
must  dishonour  them  in  ye  Eyes  of  all  Men  of  Honour;  that  I 
could  not  see  how  my  Cousin's  having  set  me  ye  Example,  would 
justitie  me  in  imitating  that  which  I  blame  so  much  in  him:  But 
nothing  I  could  say  would  satisfie  them.  Some  went  even  so  far 
as  to  say,  shall  we  go  ami  denture  our  Liven  for  a  man,  tolio  seenu 
to  indifferent  about  preserving  hin  oicn?  'I'hus  I  have  been  drawn 
in  to  do  a  thing  for  which  I  condemn  my  Self.  Yr  Ma — ty 
knows  that  in  my  Nature  I  am  neither  cruell  nor  revengefull." 

They  crossed  the  Firth  of  Forth  and  the  inhabitants 
of  Glasgow  were  more  than  astonished  when  over  three 
thousand  kilted  clansmen  witli  their  bagpipes  and  Loch- 
aber  axes  landed  amongst  them.  Ray  thus  describes 
the  appearance  of  the  Prince  :  "  His  dress  was  of  a 
Highland  garb  of  fine  silk  tartan,  red  velvet  breeches 
and  a  blue  velvet  bonnet,  with  gold  lace  around  it ;  on 
his  breast  a  large  jewel,  with  St.  Andrew  appended  ; 
is  about  six  feet  high,  walks  well  and  straight,  and 
speaks  both   English  and   broad  Scotch  very  well,  but 


I  If 


V. 


iij 


238 


HRETC'IIKH    AND    ANKCDOTKH. 


I 


■piii 

m 


ill      M 


hiH  Italian  constitution  cannot  stand  every  kind  of  hard- 
ship.'" The  Prince  made  a  levy  upon  Glasgow  of 
£15,000  sterling,  and  took  all  the  arms  that  be  could 
procure,  and  then  with  hifl  army  marched  to  Edinburgh 
the  metropolis  of  Scotland.  As  an  illustration  of  ti 
temper  of  the  times  an  anecdote  may  be  here  intro- 
duced :  Two  servant  girls  met  upon  a  stair-head,  and 
the  one  says,  **  Oh,  Jenny,  the  Highlanders  are  corain', 
and  they  are  gaun  to  kiss  a'  the  lasses  in  Edinburgh  and 
Leith."  "Mercy  me!"  cried  Tibby,  "I  maun  get 
mysel'  ready."  After  they  had  arrived  the  same  couple 
met,  when  Tibbie  said,  "  Jenny,  they  ha'e  come  ;  and  I 
wad  like  to  ken  when  the  kissin'  is  gaun  to  begin  ?  " 

The  battle  of  Prestonpans  took  place  very  early  in 
the  morning.  Ray  thus  describes  it :  "  The  foot  r 
being  supported  by  the  horse,  were  surprised  and  throw  i. 
into  confusion  worse  confounded,  they  firing  too  soon 
and  their  bayonets  not  fixed.  The  rebels  fell  furiously 
upon  them,  sword  in  hand,  and  about  two  hundred  of 
them  were  killed  and  about  one  thousand  made  pris- 
oners ;  and  Sir  John  Cope  fled  to  Dunbar  and  afterwards 
to  Berwick."  His  flight  is  thus  described  by  Skirving 
in  the  song  '*  Hey,  Johnnie  Cope  "  : 

"  When  Johnnie  Cope  to  Dunbar  came, 

They  apier'd  at  him,  '  Where's  a'  your  men  ? ' 

'  The  deil  confound  me  gin  I  ken. 

For  1  left  them  a'  in  the  morning.'" 

On  the  field  at  Prestonpans  fell  the  brave  Col.  Gard- 
iner, whose  life,  it  will  be  remembered,  was  written  by 
Dr.  Doddridge.  He  resided  at  his  seat  at  Bankton,  near 
the  battle-field,  and  I  may  here  state  that  the  writer  of 
these  lines  sat  in  the  same  chair  where,  it  is  said,  he 


SKKTrilKS    AND    ANKrDOTKS. 


•23P 


breathed  his  last  breath.     And  then-  to  tlie  hi-st  of  uiy 
ahility  T  Nimir  i'>  my  roiiipanions  the  sont( — 

"  A  wet'  binl  iiirn'  lo  onr  lui'  door. 
Hi.'  warbled  Hweet  :ind  clearly  ; 
And  aye  the  o'c'rcoine  o'  his  sun^ 

Was  '  Wile's  me  for  Prince  Charlie.'  " 

The  victorious  army  then  returned  to  Edinburgli, 
and,  according  to  Ray,  "The  Pretender  demanded  of 
the  city  of  Kdinburgh  h\\  thousand  pairs  of  shoes,  two 
thousand  targets  and  one  thousand  tentH,  to  be  made 
with  all  expedition.'"  The  Highlanders  pillaged  tlie 
whole  neighborhood.  Regarding  this  the  following 
anecdote  is  amusing  : 

In  the  neighborhood  of  Edinburgh  lived  a  very  mor- 
tified gentleman  who  lav  every  niyht  in  his  coffin  and 
winding  sheet.  He  was  visited  by  a  party  of  High- 
landers, and  seeing  the  coftin  they  concluded  a 
corjtse  was  inclosed  in  it,  and  ti  at  it  might  have  a  good 
winding  sheet.  They  raised  the  lid,  whereupon  the 
mortified  gentleman  rose  up,  and  they  were  struck  with 
such  panic  at  his  ghostly  appearance  that  they  fled  with 
all  their  might,  thinking  that  the  devil  had  taken  pos- 
session of  the  corpse.  The  (Ad  gentleman  observing  the 
situation  leaped  out  of  his  coflin  and  followed  them  in 
his  grave  clothes,  and  as  he  saw  tliein  tly  in  terror,  he 
grinned  a  ghastl}'  grin,  and  then  returned  and  lay  down 
in  his  winding  sheet. 

llie  night  after  the  battle  of  Prestonpans,  Prince 
Charles  Stuart  took  up  his  (juartors  at  I'inkie  house,  an 
old  manor  house  beautifully  situated  near  Musselburgh 
on  the  Firth  of  Forth.  In  the  reign  of  James  VI.  it  was  a 
country  mansion  belonging  to  the  Abbot  of  Dunfermline, 
of  the  Seaton  family.     On  the  front  of  the  building  in 


,ll"ll)  ,,  -* 


^^iil 


240 


(iKKTrURS    AND    ANE<;DOTEf=l, 


[<•'  J-* 


IfflU 


c 

•I 


11^ 


Pi  - 


^-H'! 


the  followinor  inscription:  "Doniniis  Ak'x.ander  Set- 
onins  hann  domum  ('(lilicMvil,  non  nd  Ji'iinii,  Rod  ad  for- 
tunarnm  ct  an-jjelli  inoduiu,"  wliicli  may  be  thus  trans- 
lated: Tjord  Alexander  8et(tn  built  tl>is  l!ou<<\  not  after 
the  fashion  of  his  niiud,  b.it  ailci-  t.liat  of  liis  fortunes 
and  eslale. 

From  "  i*iiiki(^  i)i»us(',  !i'.',i:-  iviinltuvgli,  Sej)t.  2l8t, 
174."),"  the.  i^riiKre  thus  vvritt'N  !<>  ''llis  Majt'.sty  the  Kinj,', 
our  Royal  Fatlier:" 

"It  hiis  plc;iso(!  (hi.\  to  iiro-,})''!-  Yr  Ma  -  ^  Anns  iiiuhT  ray  com- 
mand. Oil  tlic  17tii  I  Cliff  I'o.l  ;Mlinl)urg  Sword  in  iiaud,  and  got 
possession  of  yo  T')wn.  '.vitiMiit  our  hoin.i;  obli^'ed  to  shwl  ono 
Drop  of  Blond,  or  roiipiiit  the  li-ast  Violence:  And  thi.s  !\rorning, 
I  have  gain'd  a  inosl  Siirnal  Victory  willi  little  or  no  Io.ks," 

Farther  on  tl»e  Princjc  remarks: — 

"If  I  had  obtauied  tin's  Victory  over  Foreigners,  my  Joy  we'd 
have  been  compl('t^>;  Bui  as  it's  over  EnglMimen,  it  has  thrown  a 
Damp  upon  it  that  I  little  imagin(;d.  The  Men  I  have  defeated, 
were  yr  Ma — «  Enemys,  it  is  true;  But  they  might  have  become 
yr  Friends  and  Dutifull  S~cts  wlicn  fhey  had  got  their  Eyea 
open'd  to  see  ye  true  Int-crcst  of  their  Country,  which  I  come  to 
.save,  not  to  destroy.  Fi)r  this  reason  1  leave  discharg'd  all  pub- 
lick  RejoicingH." 

The  room  where  the  Prinec  slept  in  still  pointed  out, 
regarding  which  Ilobert  Chambers  reinarks:  "In  the 
eyes  of  some  it  will  bo  reu'lered  more  or  less  interesting 
bv  that  recollection." 

The  condition  of  the  brave  Col.  Gardiner  was  some- 
what different.  Ho  was  preparing  to  sleep  the  sleep 
that  knows  no  waking.  ITis  deatli  wounds  are  thus  de.s- 
cribed  b}'  his  biographer,  Dr.  Doddridge.  "  He  rode 
up  and  cried  out  to  his  regiment,  'tire  on,  my  lads,  and 
fear  nothing  ! '  Hut  just  as  the  w^ords  were  out  of  his 
mouth  a  Highlander  advanced  toward  him  with  a  scythe 


IV     •'' 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


241 


fastened  to  a  lon-T^  pole,  and  «^ave  him  such  a  deep  wound 
on  his  right  arm  tliat  his  sword  dropped  out  of  his 
hand  and  he  wa><  drnci^fi^ed  from  off  his  horse.  Another 
riisjldaiidcr  i>ave  him  a  stroke  with  a  Loohaber  axe  on 
the  liinihr  part  of  iiis  iiead,  which  was  tlie  mortal  blow. 
Ho  was  })lun(h'r('d  of  ins  watch  and  stripped  of  his  n))- 
per  ij^arui'n'is  and  l)cnts,  yc-t  still  brcalhintj^.  lie  was 
carried  from  Ihe  licM  ;ind  in  the  forenoon  took  Ids  tinal 
leave  of  pain  ;ind   sorr(»\v," 

On  the  following  day  the  Prince  returned  to  Holy- 
rood  house,  an<l  accoi-dino-  to  Kav  "  tliev  carried  tlieir 
mock  Prince  fro^n  that  place  to  the  High  Cross,  where 
tliey  ]>roclaimed  his  father  king,  and  him  regent,  with 
great  formality;  althougli  fe\\  or  none  of  the  inhabi- 
tants of  any  credit  attended  the  ceremony."  The  next 
day  a  proclamation  was  i.ssued  which  declared  that  all 
were  rebels,  especially  the  clergy,  if,  in  so  many  days, 
tliey  did  not  make  submission  to  the  house  of  Stuart. 
On  this  account  all  the  (Uergv  deserted  the  citv  and 
divine  service  for  the  time  being  was  suspended.  An 
instance  however  is  related  that  the  Rev.  Neal  McVicar 
alone  stood  his  ground  and  pra^'ed  as  usual  for  King 
George.  The  Prince  sent  a  message  to  warn  him  of 
the  consequence  of  such  ])rayers;  but,  nothing  daunted, 
the  ensuing  Sabbath  he  thus  lauTiched  out:  "  O,  Lord, 
if  it  is  in  keeping  with  Thy  will,  bU'ss  the  king.  Thou 
knowest  what  king  I  mean.  May  the  crown  sit  easy  «»n 
his  head.  But  for  this  man  that  has  come  amongst  us 
to  seek  an  earthly  crown,  we  beseech  Thee  in  mercy  to 
take  him  to  Thystdf  and  give  him  a  crown  of  glory." 
The  whole  cotmtrv  was  in  a  ferment.  The  custom- 
house  at  Leith  was  seized,  the  city  of  Glasgow  was 
8iiraraoned  the  second  time  to  contribute   €15,000  sI^m-- 


Jl 


i  1 


51'V' 


^ST^ 


ii.:. 


242 


8KBTCHE8    AND    ANECDOTES. 


t 

•   i 

i 
i 

•<  ■ 


ling  and  a  demand  was  made  that  all  landlords  of  houses 
in  Edinburgh  be  compelled  to  pay  "half  a  crown  in  the 
pound."  Those  who  had  flung  up  their  hats  for  the 
Prince,  now  when  he  touched  their  pockets,  changed 
their  minds  and  began  to  hope  with  the  minister  above 
mentioned  that  the  Lord  would  "  give  him  a  crown  of 
glory."  The  following  illustrates  this  state  of  feeling: 
One  Mr.  William  Barclay  was  requested  to  pay  this  tax, 
which  he  refused.  The  reason  for  non-payment  was 
demanded  when  he  replied  "  that  he  had  ten  guid  rea- 
sons— he  had  nine  bairns  and  one  wife  to  support."  An 
anecdote  is  also  told  of  one  called  Mr.  Thomas  Erskine 
"  an  eminent  brewer  and  preacher  among  the  people 
called  the  Quakers."  Some  of  the  Prince's  adherents 
one  night  broke  into  his  house  and  robbed  him  of  all  his 
"money  and  linen."  The  Quaker  applied  to  the  Prince 
for  redress  and  assured  him  "  that  the  method  he  pur- 
sued would  never  prosper,  for  our  King  George  take.** 
only  a  part  of  our  money,  but  thou,  even  verily  thou, 
takes  all,  and  thee  may'st  as  well  take  away  my  life  as 
take  away  the  prop  that  supports  it."  The  answer 
given  by  the  Prince  was  "that  he,  Mr.  ?2rskine,  was 
many  years  in  debt  to  the  revenue  of  his  father's  excise, 
and  that  the  money  taken  was  properly  due  to  hi." 
government." 

Disturbances  between  the  Highlanders  and  the  Low- 
landers  were  a  daily  and  nightly  occurrence,  and  even 
members  of  the  respective  clans,  at  the  slightest  provo- 
cation, would  furiously  fight  with  one  another.  On  one 
occasion  a  Campbell  atiinned  that  his  race  was  much 
older  than  the  Gordons  and  could  prove  it  by  the  Bible, 
and  referred  to  Solomon,  in  all  his  glory,  who  he  said 
"  had  a  thousand  Caramils  " — that  beirig  the  pronunci- 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


24» 


atiofi  of  Campbell  in  Scotch — whereupon  dirks  were 
drawn,  blood  was  spilled  and  Solomon's  glory  estab- 
lished. 

Although  the  magistrates  did  their  best,  the  majesty 
of  the  law  was  with  difficulty  enforced  or  vindicated, 
as  the  following  anecdotes  will  show: 

A  magistrate  was  one  day  attempting  to  deal  out 
justice  when  his  sister,  for  some  cause,  was  brought  be- 
fore him,  whereupon  he  put  to  her  the  following  ques- 
tions: "  Woman,  what  is  thy  name  ?  what  is  thy  age  ? 
and  where  is  your  usual  place  of  residence  ?  "  The  lady 
thinking  he  had  gone  mad,  held  up  her  hands  and  ex- 
claimed :  '  "  Dear  me,  Andrew,  do  ye  no  ken  yere  aiu 
sister  ? "  To  which  he  answered :  "  Woman  !  when  I 
sit  in  this  court  lo  administer  justice;  I  know  no  one — 
neither  father  nor  mother;  sister  nor  brother."  To  this 
she  immediately  replied:  "I  think,  Andrew,  ye  may 
safely  add  that  ye  dinna  ken  yere  ain  sel'."  This  an- 
swer created  a  great  laugh,  and  as  the  raai»istrate  was 
about  to  pass  sentence  some  of  her  Jacobite  friends 
seized  hold  of  her  and  carried  her  shoulder-high  out  of 
the  court-house,  locked  the  magistrate  in,  ind  Hung  the 
key  of  the  court-room  into  the  North  loch.  To  turther 
iUnstrate  the  looseness  of  the  times,  one  of  the  Prince's 
followers  was  fined  two  shillings  and  sixpence  for  get- 
ting drunk.  Next  day  he  was  again  brought  up,  when 
he  put  the  following  question  to  the  magistrate:  "  I  wad 
like  to  ken  if  it  is  Scotch  law  to  sentence  a  man  twice 
for  ae  offence;  for  ye  maun  ken  its  just  the  same  dukl 
drunk.''''  To  which  the  magistrate  replied:  *' V^Mnay 
go;  I  will  only  bring  trouble  on  myself  for  attempting 
to  enforce  the  law;  but  you  may  be  thankful  that  ye  do 
not  live  in  the  days  of  my  fathers,  for  they  would  have 


I' 


344 


SKETCHES   AND    ANECDOTES. 


-, 


« 


,  I  ■    I 


!»■     I 


haiii^ed  you  first  and  tried  you  afterwards."  Brawls  and 

broadsword  encounters  wore  the  order  of  the  niglit,  and 

in  the  siiburbs  of  the  city  duels  were  so  frequent  during 

tlu'  (lay  that  they  created  little  or  no  attention.     The 

only  individual  upon  record  who  refused  to  fight  was 

Mr.  Skirving,  an  East  Lothian  fanner  and  the  author  of 

the  song,  "  Hey,  Johnnie  Cope."    He  wrote  another  song 

on  llie  battle  of  Prestonpans,  from  which  the  following 

is  t;iken: 

"And  Major  Bowie,  that  worthy  soul. 

Was  brought  down  to  tliu  ground,  luau; 
His  horse  being  shot  it  was  his  lot 
For  to  get  numy  a  wound,  man. 

Lieutenant  Smith,  of  Irish  bivtli, 

Fraewhom  he  called  for  aid,  man, 
Being  full  of  dread,  lap  o'er  his  head. 

And  wadna  be  gainsay'd,  man. 

He  made  sic  haste,  sae  spurred  his  baiet 

'Twas  little  there  he  saw,  man, 
To  Berwick  rade;  and  falsely  said, 

The  Scots  were  rebels  a',  man," 

As  it  will  be  observed  that  Smith  was  in  Cope's 
army,  and  for  this  poetic  attack  he  sent  a  challenge  to 
Skirving,  on  receiving  which  he  said  to  the  messenger: 
*'  Gang  awa  back  and  tell  Mr.  Smith  that  I  hae  nae 
leisure  to  come  to  Haddington;  but  tell  him  to  come 
liere,  and  I'll  tak'  a  look  o'  him,  and  if  I  think  I'm  fit  to 
fecht  him,  I'll  fecht  him,  and  if  no,  I'll  do  as  he  did — 
/'//  rin  aucay 

During  these  occurrences  the  Prince's  headquarters 
was  at  Dalkeith  palace,  near  Edinburgh,  where  he  was 
laying  his  plans  and  projects  to  invade  England. 

There  resided  in  Perth  an  innkeeper  of  the  name  of 
Hixton,  and  he  solemnly  swore  "  by  the  light  of  the 
moon  and  the  green  leaf  on  the  tree,"  that  he  would 


f 


SKETCHES    AKD    ANECDOTES. 


24fi 


nme  of 
of  the 
would 


put  an  end  to  his  existence  if  Prince  Charles  Stuart 
failed  to  regain  the  crown  of  his  fathers.  He  was  a  man 
gifted  with  plausable  manners  and  keen  penetration,  lie 
obtained  an  audience  with  the  Prince,  and  soon  became 
one  of  the  leading  spirits  of  the  Jacobite  rebellion.  For 
the  purpose  of  rousing  the  northern  counties  of  England, 
and  inducing  thera  to  espouse  the  Stewart  cause,  the 
Prince  requested  Hixton  to  attire  himself  as  a  gaberlun- 
zie  or  mendicant,  and  make  his  way  to  Newcastle-upon- 
Tyne.  Glad  of  an  opportunity  to  advance  the  cause, 
Hixton  immediately  set  out  on  his  journey.  On  the  6th 
of  October  he  reached  that  place,  where,  from  some  sus- 
picions, the  authorities  arrested  him  for  a  spy.  He  was 
examined  and  searched,  and  in  the  linger  of  one  of  hib 
gloves  was  found  the  following  document,  which  I 
give  entire,  as  it  throws  considerable  light  upon  the 
state  of  the  country  and  the  designs  of  the  Prince.  On 
its  discovery  Hixton  imagined  that  the  Jacobite  cause 
was  forever  lost.  He  took  a  knife  out  of  his  pocket  and 
deliberately  cut  his  throat  from  ear  to  ear: 

"  You  are  hereby  authorized  and  directed  to  repair  to  England, 
and  there  to  certify  to  mj'^  friends,  and  particularly  those  in  the 
northwest  of  the  wonderful  success  with  which  it  has  pleased 
God  to  favor  my  endeavors  for  their  deliverance;  you  are  hereby 
to  let  thera  know  that  'lis  my  full  intention,  in  a  few  days,  to 
move  forward  to  them,,  and  they  will  be  inexcusable  before  God 
and  man  if  they  do  not  do  all  in  their  power  to  assist  and  sup- 
port me  in  such  an  undertaking.  What  I  depend  upon  jind  <'x- 
pect  is,  that  as  many  of  them  as  can  should  take  care  to  provide 
provisions  and  money,  that  the  country  may  suffer  as  little  as 
possible  by  the  march  of  my  troops.  Let  thetn  know  there  is  no 
more  time  for  deliberation.  Now  or  never,  is  the  word.  I  am 
resolved  to  conquer  or  perish  in  the  attempt.  If  the  last  should 
happen  let  them  consider  what  they  and  their  posterity  have  to 
expect." 

Signed.  CifAKLES,  P.  U. 


It"  ■■■ 


246 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


''^^' 


c 

/"I 


it«i 


:| 


The  victory  that  the  Prii)ce  achieved  at  Preston- 
pans  added  greatly  to  the  entliusiasra  of  his  followers, 
and  a  number  of  clans  that  ha<l  remained  lukewarm 
and  refused  to  rally,  now  Joined  his  forces.  He  made 
a  feeble  eflFort  to  take  Edinburgh  castle,  but  seeing  that 
task  would  be  dittictilt  to  accomplish,  and  being  advised 
by  Lord  George  Murray,  Lord  Elcho,  the  Earl  of  Kil- 
marnock and  others  that  delays  were  dang-erous,  he  re- 
solved  to  immediately  invade  England.  On  the  first 
of  November  he  sent  off  his  baggage  and  ammunition, 
which  was  followed  by  the  whole  army  in  three  columns. 
One  of  the  columns  reached  Kelso,  a  town  in  the  bonnie 
border  land,  where  the  following  strange  occurrence  is 
said  to  have  taken  place: 

There  was  a  dealer  in  snuff  in  Edinburgh  who  had 
grown  rich  and  set  up  a  coach.  On  this  coach  he 
caused  to  be  painted  his  coat  of  arms  and  underneath 
were  these  words: 

"  Wlio  could  have  thought  it 
Nose  could  have  bought  it." 

He  also  had  the  wooden  figure  of  a  negro  standing 
at  his  shop  door.  At  this  shop  Niel  McSween  fre- 
quently purchased  snuft',  and  on  leaving  the  shop  he 
took  great  delight  in  kicking  the  wooden  negro  into  the 
street.  On  reaching  Kelso,  Neil's  nose  required  to  be 
primed,  and  for  this  purpose  he  went  into  a  tobacco 
store.  He  had  never  seen  a  live  negro  in  his  born  days 
and  on  coming  out  one  happened  to  be  standing  at  the 
door,  and  without  warning  and  in  a  moment  he  knocked 
him  heels  over  head.  When  the  negro  regained  his  feet 
Neil's  hair  stood  on  end,  and  he  cried  out  "  Mercy  me  ! 
I  thoui^ht  ye  was  made  of  wood  ! " 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


247 


fre- 
he 

the 

o  be 

»acco 

lays 

the 
iked 

feet 
rae  ! 


As  it  was  uow,  whatsis  termed  in  Scotland  the  "  back- 
end  "  or  fall  of  the  year,  considerable  sickness  prevailed 
nmongst  the  Highlanders.  Jenny  Fairbairn,  a  garru- 
lous Lowland  cottager,  thus  describes  the  death  scene 
of  a  young  Highlander — 

"  Some  die  in  their  beds  and  some  out  of  them,  some 
are  shot  dead,  some  stickit,  some  have  their  throats  cut 
and  some  are  hanged.  There  are  early  deaths  as  well 
as  early  marriages,  but  there  are  likewise  happy  deaths, 
<and  Oh  !  the  braw  and  bonnie  Highland  laddie  died  an 
unco  happy  death.  He  cam'  into  ma  house  and  I  told 
him  to  sit  doon  aside  the  fire.  It  was  early  in  the 
mornin'  and  I  was  e'en  takin'  ray  breakfast.  He  sat 
<Ioon  and  I  handed  him  a  plate  fu'  o'  parritch,  and  he 
began  to  sup,  and  when  I  thought  he  was  about  done, 
I  said  to  him,  "my  bonnie  laddie,  will  you  tak'  a  drink 
o'  milk  ? "  but  he  never  spoke,  and  when  I  turned  my 
head  to  see  what  was  the  matter  wi'  him,  there  he  was 
sittin'  stiff  dead,  puir  lad,  wi'  the  parritch  plate  atween 
his  knees.     Eh  !  but  his  death  was  a  happy  death  !  " 

Another  anecdote  maybe  here  introduced.  The  lads 
and  lassies  o'  Kelso  are  frequently  in  the  habit  of  dano- 
ing.  On  one  occasion  a  Highland  piper  was  hired  to 
]>lay  the  bagpipes.  "Man,"  said  an  Englishman  to  him, 
*'  ye  are  a  grand  player;  do  ye  play  by  the  ear  ?  "  "By 
the  year  I  "  he  replied  in  astotiishment;  "  na,  na,  I  only 
play  by  the  night." 

Ireland,  at  this  period,  was  in  a  great  state  of  dis- 
content— many  of  her  sons  strongly  favored  the  cause 
of  the  Pretender.  When  any  trouble  arises  in  any  part 
of  the  world,  America,  England  or  Scotland,  for  oxain- 
j)le,  people  outside  of  these  leave  them  alone  to  settle 
their  own  affairs;  but  when  trouble  arises  in    Ireland, 


»; 


I* 


24b 


SKETCHES  AND  ANECDOTES. 


'     .ill'. 


J  ■   :? 


1. 


she  is  deluged  with  advice  from  all  quarters  of  the  hab- 
itable globe.  Even  her  own  sons  are  eternally  advising 
her.  On  account  of  these  advices,  past  and  present, 
one  is  inclined  to  wonder  that  the  condition  of  Ireland 
is  not  much  worse  than  it  really  is.  In  1745  the  cry 
was,  "  Ireland  and  Scotland  against  England."  Some 
people  advised  Ireland  one  way  and  some  another.  Dean 
Swift  in  his  celebrated  "  Draper's  Letters  "  thus  adnion- 
isbed  the  people:  "  I  have  many  reasons  to  believe  tl^at 
there  are  not  a  few  among  you,  who  secretly  rejoice 
at  the  rebellion  that  is  now  raised  in  Scotland;  and 
perhaps  conceive  hopes  of  some  alteration  for  the 
better  in  their  circumstances  and  condition,  if  it 
ghould  succeed.  It  is  possible  that  among  the  lords 
and  esquires,  one  perhaps  among  a  hundred  would  get 
something  by  a  chance.  On  the  other  hand,  if  the  poor 
laborer  when  all  is  over  is  to  be  a  laborer  still,  I  can  not 
find  why  he  should  fancy  it  worth  his  while  to  venture 
a  leg  or  an  arm,  and  the  gallows,  too,  into  the  bargain, 
to  be  just  where  he  set  out.  If  he  must  dig  and  delve, 
when  the  Pretender  is  settled  on  the  throne,  he  had  as 
good  stick  to  it  now  for  any  difference  I  can  see.  If  a 
farmer  must  pay  his  rent  I  see  no  reason  that  he  should 
be  much  concerned  whether  he  pays  it  to  one  man  or 
to  another.  *  *  *  Tliere  is  not  a  more  foolish  trade 
than  fighting  for  nothing,  and  I  hope  my  good  country- 
men will  be  too  wise  to  be  persuaded  into  it.  Fine 
speeches  and  fair  promises  will  not  be  wanting  to  delude 
them,  but  let  them  remember  the  warning  I  no'y  give, 
that  when  all  is  over,  the  very  best  that  can  befall  them 
is  to  have  their  labor  for  their  pains.  *  *  *  It  well 
deserves  your  thought  whether  it  is  worth  your  while  to 
beggar  yourselves  and    families  that    the  man's   name 


BKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


249 


Upon  the  throne  be  James  instead  of  George  ;  you  will 
probably  see  neither  of  them  while  you  live,  nor  be  one 
penny  the  richer  for  one  or  for  the  other." 

It  is  somewhat  strange  that  the  people  in  England 
were  indifferent  whether  Prince  Charles  would  be 
successful  or  otherwise.  It  has  even  been  affirmed  by 
some  that  if  he  and  his  army  had  gone  into  London  at 
the  one  side,  King  George  was  ready  to  go  out  at  the 
other. 

On  the  9th  of  November  the  respective  columns  of 
the  Highland  Army  were  united  some  little  distance 
from  Carlisle.  Two  thousand  of  them  crossed  the  Esk 
at  Longtown,  and  in  their  passage  nothing  was  seen  but 
their  heads.  On  reaching  land  tlie  pipers  blew  their 
pi[)es  and  they  danced  reels  till  they  were  all  dry  again. 
Tie  Prince  entered  Carlisle  preceded  b}'  a  hundred 
pipers,  their  pipes  going  at  full  blast.  This  circumstance 
is  celebrated  in  the  following  lyric  which  no  one,  if  he 
values  his  life,  dare  sing  within  from  ten  to  twenty 
miles  from  Carlisle  : 

Wi'  a  Imiulred  pipers  an'  a',  an'  a', 
Wi*  a  hun(h'ed  pipers  an'  a',  an'  a', 
We'll  up  and  gie  them  a  l)la\v,  a  blaw, 
Wi'  a  hundred  pipers  an'  a',  an'  a', 
Oh,  it's  ower  the  border,  a  \va',  a  wa'. 
It's  ower  the  border,  a  wa,'  a  wa', 
We'll  on  an'  we'll  inarch  to  Carlisle  ha', 
Wi'  its  yctts,  its  castles,  an'  a',  an'  a', 

Wi'  a  hundred  pipers  an'  a',  an'  a', 

Wi'  a  hundred  pipers  an'  a',  an'  a'. 

We'll  up  an'  gie  them  a  blaw,  a  blaw, 

Wi'  a  hundred  pipers  an'  a',  an'  a'. 

Oh  I  our  sodger  lads  look'd  braw,  look'd  braw, 
AVi"  their  tartans,  kilt  an'  a',  an'  a', 
AVi'  their  bonnets  an'  feathers,  an'  glitlerin'  gear, 
An'  pibrochs  sounding;  loud  and  clear, 
17 


&■ 


3-50 


SKETCHES    AXI)    AXK<,DOTE«. 


ii; 


i 


Will  they  u"  n-lurn  to  tlioir  ain  dour  glen  ? 
Will  tliey  a'  return,  our  Ilir^hiand  men  ? 
Sceond-sightcd  Sandy  looked  fii'  wae, 
And  mithers  grat  when  tliey  niarclied  away. 
Wi'  a  hundred  pipers,  ete. 

Oh  I  wha  is  foremost  o'  a',  o'  a'? 
Oh  I  wha  is  foremost  o'  a',  o'  a'? 
Bonnie  Charlie,  the  king  o'  us  a',  hurrah  ! 
Wi'  his  hundred  pipers  an'  a',  an'  a'. 
His  bonnet  an'  feather  he's  vvavin'  high, 
His  prancing  steed  maist  seems  to  lly  ; 
The  nor'  wind  plays  wi'  his  curly  hair, 
While  the  pipers  blaw  wi'  an  unco  Hare  ! 
Wi'  a  hundred  pipers,  etc. 

The  Esk  was  swollen  .'^ue  rod  an'  sae  det;p  ; 
But  shouther  to  .shouthcr  the  l)rave  huN  keep  ; 
Twa  thousand  swam  ower  to  fell  English  ground, 
An'  danced  themselves  dry  to  the  pibroch's  sound. 
Dumfounder'd,  the  English  they  .saw,  they  saw, 
Dumfounder'd,  they  heard  the  blaw,  the  blaw  ; 
Dumfounder'd,  they  a'  ran  awa',  awa', 
Frae  the  hundred  pipers  an'  a',  an'  a'. 

Wi'  a  hundred  pipers,  etc. 

When  the  Pretender  and  his  army  occupied  Carlisle, 
Marshal  Wade  with  his  opposing  force  of  raw  militia 
lay  inactive  at  Newcastle.  At  length,  on  the  17th  day 
of  November,  he  mustered  uj)  courage  to  order  his  army 
to  advance  to  the  relief  of  Carlisle.  He  reached  Hexham 
about  4  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  but  his  rear  guard  did 
iiot  arrive  till  about  midnight.  Here  the  gallant  soldier 
found  out  that  Carlisle  ha<l  surrendered.  So,  when  his 
I'ear  guard  came  up,  his  vanguard  had  commenced  to 
inarch  back  again  to  Newcastle.  The  weather  was  raw 
and  coW,  and  the  roads  were  in  bad  order,  and  when 
his  beautiful  army,  according  to  Ray,  reached  Newcas- 
tle, "they  vvere  exceedingly  fatigued,"  but  their  <'ondi- 
tion  would  have  been  much  worse  "had  it  not  been  for 


8KKTCIIKS    AND    ANECDOTKfl. 


361 


rUsle, 
militia 
|th  day 
army 
lexham 
ird  did 
ioldier 
lien  his 
ped    to 
las  raw 
when 
w<^a8- 
Icondl- 
en  for 


the  peculiar  care  taken  of  them  hy  the  people  of  New- 
castle." 

The  Pretender,  with  his  hardy  band  of  Highlanders, 
cared  for  neither  wind  nor  weather.  He  garrisoned 
Carlisle,  and  with  an  army  wliose  strength  reached  seven 
thousand  fijjhtinff  men,  marched  forward  bv  Penrith  to 
Kendal.  The  Prince  entered  that  town  in  the  evening, 
having  walked  the  whole  distance  on  foot  in  front  of  his 
army.  Here,  according  to  Ray,  "  they  plundered  the 
country  in  a  most  shameful  manner."  Yet,  in  justice 
to  the  Prince,  even  his  enemies  agree  that  he  did 
Ilia  best  to  restrain  his  followers  from  pillaging  and 
plundering  the  inhabitants.  Notwithstanding,  it  was 
the  old  story  over  again,  and  will  prove  the  force  of 
the  proverb,  that  "  auld  sparrows  are  ill  to  tame,"  for — 

"  Rob  McGregor's  come  again, 
Rob  McGregor's  come  again, 
Highland  blood  and  Highland  bane, 
Rob  McGregor's  come  again." 

They  not  only  did  this,  but  from  their  gallant 
appearance  they  stole  the  hearts  and  turned  the  heads  of 
nearly  all  the  young  lasses  in  the  district.  The  follow- 
ing parental  advice  was  given  to  one  of  these  :  "  Betsy, 
my  dear,  if  ye  desire  happiness  in  this  world,  and  that 
which  is  to  come,  get  married  to  somebody  of  your  own 
rtesh  and  blood  ;  but,  for  the  sake  of  your  country  and 
vour  immortal  soul,  never  marrv  a  Hiffhland  soldier. 
For  as  sure  as  guns  are  made  of  iron,  he  will  dance  a  jig 
on  the  gallows,  or  my  name  is  not  John  Trotter.  A 
soldier!  I  would  sooner  see  ye  marry  a  gypsy,  a  tinker, 
a  horner  or  a  beggar.  A  soldier  from  the  far  otf  Highlands 
of  Scotland  !  Betsy,  my  dear,  banish  him  from  your 
thoughts,  wash  him  from  your  mind,  and  wring  him 
like  a  dish-cloth  from  out  your  heart.     What  a  fool  he 


Il 


252 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


s^H 


(1 


|::  A  !pi 


must  be  to  stand  up  to  he  shot  at  for  sixpence  a  day, 
Sundav  included."  But  to  show  "  that  love  will  ven- 
ture  in  where  it  daurna'  weel  be  seen,"  Betsy  lilted  up  : 

"  He's  coming  frae  the  north  that's  to  fancy  me  ; 
He's  coming  frae  the  north  that's  to  marry  me  ; 
A  feather  in  his  bonnet,  a  ribbon  at  his  knee, 
He's  a  bonnie,  bonnie  laddie,  an'  yon  be  he." 

Innumerable  anecdotes  are  told  regarding  the 
Highland  occupation  of  the  northern  counties  of 
England. 

A  gentleman  in  Kendall  possessed  a  telescope  of  con- 
siderable power,  and  a  Jacobite  shoemaker  from  Selkirk 
was  permitted  to  have  a  peep  at  the  moon.  He  gazed 
at  it  with  wonder,  and  then  raised  his  head  to  wipe  his 
eyes.  During  this  interval  the  end  of  the  telescope 
noiselessly  slid  down,  and  instead  of  pointing  to  the 
heavens  it  pointed  to  a  public  house  on  the  side  of  a 
hill.  He  again  looked,  and  his  eye  fell  upon  the  sign- 
board, "  London  Porter  Sold  Here."  "  London  porter  in 
the  moon  !  "  he  yelled  with  astonishment.  "  Hoo  in 
a'  the  world  did  it  get  up  there  ?  " 

There  is  no  denying  the  fact  that  a  Highland  Scotch- 
man makes  one  of  the  best  soldiers  the  world  over. 
Even  Ray,  their  bitter  enemy,  gives  them  this  credit, 
though  he  sneeringly  remarks  "  that  they  were  car 
al)0ut  their  victuals,  and  not  very  curion^'  a'"- 
goodness  of  it;  and  as  to  lodging,  if  a  liti  .raw  'i 
provided  to  lie  upon,  they  were  entirely  eas^    ' 

On  the  26th  the  Highland  army  entered  Lane,  ter, 
but  there  they  only  stayed  long  enough  to  eat  some 
bread  and  cheese,  while  standing  in  the  streets.  On  the 
2sth  the  army  reached  Wigan,  and  on  the  same  day 
Ray  very  curiously  remarks  that "  Manchester  was  taken 


SKKTCUKS    AND    ANECDOTES. 


2oJ 


of 


by  a  sergeant,  a  rlrum,  and  a  woman.  About  2  oVlork  in 
the  afternoon,  they  rode  up  to  the  Bull's-hoad  on  horses, 
where  they  dined.  After  dinner  the  woman  and  the 
man  beat  the  drum  for  reeruitH,  and  in  less  than  an 
hour  listed  about  30,  some  of  desperate  fortunes,  lowest 
rank  and  vilest  principles."  On  the  same  day  the  Pre- 
tender entered  Manchester,  preceded  by  his  hundrccl 
])ipers,  and  no  doubt  their  appearance  in  full  IIighlan«l 
costume  and  the  blasts  from  their  pipes  filled  the  minds 
of  the  Manchester  people  with  wonder  and  astonish- 
ment. The  following  anecdote  well  illustrates  the  in- 
fluence that  bagpipe  music  holds  over  the  hum;in 
mind:  "Some  of  the  dulcet  notes  saluted  tiie  ear,  f<»r 
the  first  time,  of  an  old  bed-ridden  Manchester  ladv. 
She  rose  up  and  exclaimed:  "  Hark  !  that  is  not  earthly 
music;  that  is  music  from  heaven,  calling  me  to  the 
bosom  of  Abraham,  Isaac,  and  Jacob  !  Elizabeth,  hr'mrf 
up  the  cold  roast  beef!  on  saying  wiiich  she  fell  back  and 
immediately  expired." 

The  Prince  m.ade  a  levy  on  Manchester  of  £2,500, 
which  was  promised  to  be  repaid  as  soon  as  his  govern- 
ment was  established. 

The  Highlanders  remained  in  Manchester  till  the 
10th  of  the  month,  and  here  trouble  began  to  surround 
the  Prince  on  every  side.  The  cry  was  not,  as  formerly, 
"  On  to  London,"  but  the  thought  was  how  to  get  back 
again  with  safety  to  Scotland.  Dissensions  arose 
amongst  the  leaders.  The  Duke  of  Cumberland  w,a8 
advancing  with  a  strong  army  to  oppose  the  Prince  on 
the  one  side,  and  Marshal  Wade  had  mustered  up  cour- 
age to  attack  him  on  the  other.  The  Highland  army 
was  now  ordered  to  retreat.  The  following  verses  are 
supposed  to  be  sung  by  a  disconsolate  Scotch  female : 


F'l>„ 


254 


8KBTCHS6    AND    ANECDOTES. 


C 


f    'i-M 


"  When  I  lir>.t  cam'  to  merry  Carlisle, 
Ne'er  was  a  town  so  sweetly  seeming, 
The  white  rose  flaunted  o'er  the  wall. 
The  thistle  banners  far  were  streamin'  ! 

When  I  cam'  next  to  merry  Carlisle, 
O,  sad,  sad,  seemed  the  town  and  eerie. 

The  aiild,  auld  men  cam'  out  and  wept — 
'■  O,  maiden  come  ye  to  seek  yere  dearie  ?  ", 

There's  a  drap  o'  bluid  upon  my  breast, 
And  twa  on  my  links  o'  hair  sae  yellow; 

The  ane  I'll  ne'(!r  wash  and  the  tither  ne'er  karae. 
But  I'll  sit  and  pray  ancatli  the  willow. 

Wae,  wae  upon  the  cruel  heart, 
Wae,  wae  upon  that  hand  sae  bludie, 

Which  feasts  in  our  richest  Scottish  bluid, 
And  makes  sae  mony  a  doleful  widow." 

Carlisle  was  retaken  by  the  king's  forces.  A  skir- 
mish or  two  took  place  between  the  two  armies,  and,  on 
the  20th  of  December,  the  Highlanders  recrossed  the 
Esk,  and  on  the  25th  they  again  took  possession  of 
Glasgow.  On  the  3d  of  Januarj-^,  1V46,  they  marched 
out  of  Glasgow  and  took  possession  of  Stirling,  and  de- 
manded Gen.  Blakeney  to  surrender  the  castle,  but  his 
answer  was,  "  that  he  would  defend  the  place  to  the  last 
extremity;  for  as  he  had  lived,  so  he  was  determined  to 
die — a  man  of  honor."  Stirling,  it  will  be  remembered^ 
is  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  Bannockburn,  where  King 
Robert  Bruce  so  signally  defeated  the  English  army, 
which  recalls  the  following  anecdote:  An  old  Scotch 
lady  was  pointing  out  to  a  party  of  English  tourists  the 
battle-field  and  the  method  of  that  great  battle.  At 
the  conclusion  of  this  they  tendered  her  some  money. 
Her  answer  was  as  good  as  ever  fell  from  the  lips  of  a 
Grecian  matron.  She  said,  "  Put  up  yere  siller,  ye  ha'e 
paid  dear  enough  for  it  already." 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


255 


For  several  <lay.s  the  Pretender  and  his  array  dilly- 
dallied in  the  nelghborliood  of  Stirlin<r,  and  made  sev- 
eral vain  attempts  to  take  that  castle.  Stirling  castle 
much  resembles  Edinburgh  castle,  botli  being  built  on 
inaccessible  rocks,  and  the  Prince  found  that  his  cannon 
balls  made  no  impression  on  that  stronghold. 

On  the  17th  of  January,  1746,  the  memorable  battle 
of  Falkirk  took    place.     Uen.    Ilawley,    of   the    king's 
forces,  had  followed  cautiously  in  the  rear  of  the  Jacob- 
ite army  and  took  up  a  position  on  Falkirk  moor.     The 
Highlanders,  with  their  usual  dash  and  intrejadity,  at- 
tacked him  with  the  most  determined  braverv.     Thev 
were  admonished  to  reserve  their  fire  until  the  enemv 
was   within  musket  shot.     Ilawley's  cavalry  advanced 
and  broke  the  Highland  lines,  and  trampled  the  High- 
landers under  the  feet  of  their  horses.    A  singular  combat 
immediately   followed.     Those  Highlanders    who  were 
thrown  down  thrust  their  dirks  into  the  bellies  of  the 
horses.      Some   grabbed    the  riders  and  dragged  them 
down,  giving   them   no   quarter,   but  <lispatching  them 
upon  the  spot.  The  Highlanders  did  not  neglect  their  ad- 
vantage, but   pursued  them  with  their  swords;  and  it  is 
said  that  on  account  of  the  1>roken  ground,  they  were  so 
fleet  of  foot  that  they  even  out-ran  the  horses.     The  cav- 
alry was  then  thrown  into  confusion,  and  they  in  their 
turn  threw  the  infantry  into  confusion  worse  confounded. 
A  severe  storm  of  thunder,  lightning,  wind  and  rain  at 
this  time  took  place,  and  Ilawley  and  his  army  Hew  in 
the   greatest   terror  and  disorder  along  the  great  road 
which  leads  to  E.linburgh.     The   Highlanders  did   not 
know  that  they  had    gained    so    great    a   victory,    for, 
as   they   advanced,   expecting  to  find  the  enemy,  they 


i\ 


If 


1 


256 


SKETCHES    AXD    AXECDOTPJS. 


( 


exclaimed  in  Gaelic;     "  Where's  the  men  ?     Where  the 

devil  have  they  gone  ?" 

"But  tried  they  up  or  tried  they  down, 
There  was  no  foe  in  Falkirk  town, 
Nor  yet  in  a'  the  country  roun' 
To  break  a  sword  at  a',  man. 

They  were  sae  bauld  at  bre.ik  o'  day, 
When  tow'rd  the  west  tliey  tocjk  their  way, 
But  tlie  Higlilandmen  came  down  the  brae, 
And  made  the  dogs  to  blaw,  man." 

When  the  news  of  the  defeat  of  the  king's  forces 
reached  London,  according  to  Ray,  "  it  made  it  necessary 
to  provide  for  the  immediate  extinction  of  so  dangerous 
a  flame."  The  Duke  of  Cumberland  was  empowered 
"to  extinguish  all  animosities  and  to  restore  the  spirit 
of  the  soldiers."  It  was  decided  that  tlie  Duke  should 
immediately  proceed  to  Scotland.  A  number  of  His- 
sian  troops,  under  IJritish  pay,  were  lying  in  the  neigh- 
borhood of  Antwerp,  and  they  were  forthwith  ordered 
to  embark  for  Scotland  On  the  30th  the  Duke 
of  Cumberland  arrived  in  Edinburgh,  and  to  again 
quote  Ray,  "He  was  received  with  all  the  testimonies 
of  loyalty  and  affection  that  could  possibly  be  ex- 
pressed." The  i)oets  who  favored  the  Hanoverian  line 
now  began  to  sing: 

ClaymorcK  long  adieu,  now  j'our  edge  is  unsteel'd; 
Ye  Canierons,  no  more  you  such  weapons  must  wield; 
The  Duke  says  the  word,  and  the  clans  are  undone; 
When  your  mountains  down  tumble  every  soul  of  you's 

gone. 
Then  farewell  McPhersons,  M'Flegs,  and  .McPhuus, 
McDonalds,  Mcr)rummonds,  McDevils,  McDuns, 
McDolands,  MtWades,  and  your  sons  of  a  gun, 
McGeorges,  ]\IcCharlies,  McRumps  and  McHuns, 

The  Duke  of  Cumberland  reviewed  his  troops  at 
Linlithgow,  and  on  the  '2d  February  he  entered  Stirling. 


SKETCHES    AND    AXECDOTES. 


257 


here  the 


's  forces 
leeessaiy 
mgeroiis 
powered 
le  spiiit 
}  should 

of  Ht-s- 
B  neigli- 
ordered 
3  Duke 
o  again 
timonies 

be  ex- 
ian  line 


ield; 

e; 

of  you's 

IS, 


)0|).s   at 
Itirling. 


Regarding  this,  Ray  remarks:  "On  tliat  memorable 
occasion  he  received  the  compliments  of  General  Blak- 
eney  and  the  officers  of  his  garrison." 

The  victory  they  achieved  at  Falkirk  added  no  suc- 
cess  to  the  Jacobite   cause.     A   retreat   was   ordered. 
They  crossed  the  bridge  of  Tay,  and  the  Prince  estab- 
lished his  headquarters  at  Perth,  on  the  borders  of  the 
Highland  hills.     On  the  3d  that  city  was  evacuated,  and 
on  the  4th  the  advanced  guard  of  the  king's  armv  took 
possession.     The  Prince's  cause  now  became  desperate, 
and  his  only  safety  was  to  retreat  to  the  mountains  and 
endeavor  in  almost  inaccessible  ground  to  turn  the  tide 
of  the  approaching  ruin  and  disaster.     On  the  16th  the 
Duke  of  Cumberland  marched  from  Nairn  and  found  the 
Jacobites   prepared   for  battle  upon  Culloden's  dreary 
moor.     Lord    Bury   advanced   within  a  hundred  yards 
where  the  outposts  of  the  Pretender's  army  were  sta- 
tioned.    Bligh  and  Semple's  men  opened  fire;  the  High- 
landers returned  the  fire,  then  threw  away  their  mus- 
kets, and  with  fearless  bravery   attacked*  the  enemv, 
sword  in  hand.     The  battle  raged    keen   and    bloody,' 
but  the  odds  were  so  great  that  the  Pretender  was  forcJd 
to  fly,  followed  by  the  Clans  in  the  utmost  disorder. 
Five   hundred   were  killed  in  the  pursuit  and  a  great 
number  of  oflicers  and  men  were  taken  prisoners,  wl;ile 
the  killed  and  wounded   of   the    king's   troops    barely 
reached   300.     Those  of  the  Highlanders  who  had  es- 
caped fled  in  all  directions,andhid  themselves  in  dens  and 
in  caves,  where  the  Duke  of  Cumberland  and  his  hii-erl 
Hessians  followed,  and  without  a  pang  of  compunction 
slaughtered  many  of  them  in  cold  blood,  and  to  this  day 
the  very  name  of  Cumberland  stinks  in  the  nostrils  of 
all  true  Scotchmen.     The  poor  Prince,  now  shorn  of  all 


r  * ''-^i  1 

V 

:  :v  1 

I 

1 

if 


CV0* 

o 


258 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


luH  hopes,  wandered  from  hiding  place  to  hiding  place 
ill  disguise.  A  high  price  was  set  upon  liis  head,  but, 
to  the  credit  of  the  Highlanders  be  it  spoken,  not  one 
out  of  the  many  who  knew  his  \vliereabouts  was  found 
base  enough  to  betray  him.  Regarding  this,  a  noble 
instancf  of  fidelity  to  the  Prince  is  related.  A  gentle- 
man of  the  name  of  McKenzie  much  resembled  the 
l*rinc(',  and  in  a  lonely  cabin  he  was  keeping  watch 
while  the  Prince  was  asleep.  They  were  surrounded  by 
the  king's  troops.  He  awoke  the  Prince  and  informed 
him  oi  this  circumstance,  and  he  said:  "Then  we  must 
die  like  brave  men,  with  swords  in  our  hands."  "No, 
m}'  Prince,"  replied  McKenzie,  "  I  will  take  your  name 
and  face  one  of  these  detachments.  I  know  what  ray 
fate  will  be;  but  whilst  I  keep  it  employed  your  royal 
highness  M'ill  have  time  to  escape."  McKenzie  darted 
forward  with  fury,  sword  in  hand,  against  a  detachment 
of  50  men;  he  fell  covered  with  wounds,  and  he  ex- 
claimed: "You  know  not  what  you  have  done.  I  am 
your  Prince  whom  vou  have  killed."  They  cut  off  his 
luad  and  carried  it  to  the  Duke  of  Cumberland,  and  the 
bloody  Duke,  believing  that  he  had  obtained  the  head  of 
the  Prince,  set  off  next  d^y  for  London  with  McKenzie's 
head  packed  up  in  his  post-chaise. 

In  a  lonely  cave  on  this  cold,  barren  shore  the 
Prince  was  for  man\  lays  secreted;  and  to  this  day  when 
the  Highland  boatmen  pass  the  place  they  take  their  bon- 
nets off  their  heads  and  chant  the  Avell-known  Jacobite 
song:  "  Wae's  me  for  Prince  Charlie."  A  purer  and 
more  unselfish  love  was  never  found  than  the  love  of 
Flora  McDonald  for  the  unfortunate  Pretender.  In  the 
annals  descriptive  of  woman's  love,  faith  and  fortitude, 
her  name  will  never  die.      Her  life  was  bright  and  pure 


ing  place 
ead,  but, 

not  one 
as  found 
,  a  noble 
V  gentle- 
bled    the 
ig  watch 
Linded  by 
informed 
we  must 
"    "No, 
)ur  name 
vhat  my 
ur  rovai 
e  darted 
acbment 
1  he  ex- 
!.     I  am 
.  off  his 
and  the 

head  of 
Kenzie's 

ore  the 
ly  when 
leir  bon- 
(^acobite 
rer  and 
love  of 
In  the 
rtitude, 
i<l  pure 


SKBTCHBS    AND    ANECD0TK8.  2")9 

aH  the  noonday  sun,  and  she  died  leaving  none  more 
noble  on  life's  scene.  Would  I  could  say  the  same  of 
the  Pretender.  His  after-life,  after  he  eseape<l  from 
Scotland,  was  not  what  it  ough*  to  have  been.  I  could 
Bay  much  regarding  this;  but  it  is  better  to  throw  the 
mantle  of  charity  over  his  faults  and  failings.  He  died 
at  Florence  in  the  year  1788. 


THE  BURNIN'  O'  THE  BREEKS. 
(Inscribed  to  Dii.  A.  Frasek,  Ypsilunti.  Mich.] 

Mj  muse,  come  weave  a  liamely  balhul 
Aboot  the  Shepherd  o'  Killpallet, 
And  eke  aboot  his  auld  guidwife, 
Whom  he  had  wed  in  early  life; 
To  SDuffln'  he  was  predilected, 
His  wife  to  smoking  was  addicted. 
If  there's  one  pleasing  sight  in  life 
It  is  to  see  a  sonsy  wife, 
Pu*  cosy  sitting  by  the  fire, 
Weaving  the  thread  around  tlic  wire, 
Wi'  face  lit  up  wi'  ]mre  delight. 
Blawin'  the  reek  wi'  a'  her  might, 
And  liltin'  sweet  an  auld  Scotch  ditty 
Atween  the  luntin'  o"  her  cutty  ! 
And  furthermore  'tis  joy  complete 
To  see  twa  ancient  siuners  meet,         ' 
And  lean  their  backs  against  the  wa' 
And  crack  till  they  are  like  to  fa' 
'Bout  wives  and  men  and  sheep  and  foxes, 
And  kindly  interchange  snulT-boxes. 
Quid  folks.  I  charge  ye  all  to  mind  this— 
That  snuff's  the  milk  o'  human  kindness  ' 
But  here,  off-hand,  I  now  relate 
His  name  was  SnulHng  E)avid  Tait; 
The  prefix  given  arose  nae  doot 
From  his  great  love  o'  Lundyfoot. 
His  middle  name  when  he  was  heezed 
Up  pulpit  stairs  to  be  bapteezed, 
The  third  was  handed  doon  through  ages 
By  Tails  wha'll  never  read  these  pages. 


TT^^" 


It"  :■.-  ■■Il      . 


260 


SKETCHES    AXD    ANECDOTES. 


I- 


HMO 

o 


Now  Talt  had  been  at  school  and  colloge, 

And  sac  l)is  head  was  panged  wi'  knowledge, 

But  poverty  did  round  him  creep, 

Sac  he  began  a-herding  sheep. 

His  wife  was  e'en  a  curious  woman 

She  had  great  dread  o'  evils  comin', 

She'd  grane  and  gnmt  and  t'ulE  and  blavv 

Aboot  the  day  she  never  saw, 

And  no  like  some  I  ha'e  in  view. 

Gentle  and  kind  the  hale  year  through — 

Wha's  minds  are  balanced  to  a  hair, 

And  who  can  do,  and  nobly  dare. 

To  scour  the  pans  and  cleanse  the  cogs 

And  kick  aboot  the  cats  and  dogs; 

Lookin'  as  tosh-like  on  the  Monday 

As  some  wives  look  upon  the  Sunday  ! 

Her  father  was  a  hand-loom  weaver  ! 
He  was  a  staunch  and  strong  believer 
In  Daniel  and  the  Revelation, 
Josephus  and  the  Jewish  nation. 
He'd  rave  till  he  was  white's  a  cloot 
'Bout  things  that  he  kent  nought  aboot; 
Losh  !  when  he  grasp 'd  the  points  o"  faith 
Tail's  future  wife  would  draw  her  breath 
And  flee  wi'  terror  'neath  the  loom. 
In  case  she'd  hear  the  crack  o'  doom, 
Or  that  the  fiends  would  come  belyeve 
To  roast  and  burn  her  up  alive  ! 
Her  youthful  terrors,  when  we  view  them, 
We  wonder  how  she  warsled  through  them, 
We  wonder  how  a  man  sae  hazy 
Had  failed  to  ding  wee  Xaucy  crazy  ! 
This  ranting  man,  this  hand-loom  weaver, 
How  he  denounced  the  unbeliever. 
By  dint  o'  Calvin's  erudition 
He  soon  consigned  them  to  perdition; 
But  'midst  his  ravings  ne'er  neglected 
To  point  out  that  he  was  elected  ! 

His  daughter's  name  was  I^ancy  Waite, 
But  it  was  changed  to  Xancy  Talt: 
When  frae  her  mither  she  was  riven 
And  to  the  kirk  awa  was  driven; 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


261 


Now  raonie  a  year  awa'  has  fled 

Since  Nancy  Waite  was  won  and  wed; 

Twice  twenty  years  liae  run  their  tack 

Since  wi'  this  wife  I  had  a  cracii; 

A'.'  diy  whan  showers  cam'  lielter-skelter, 

And  to  her  house  I  ran  for  shelter, 

'Twas  then,  I  trow,  she  spoke  emphatic 

'Bout  spells  and  charms  and  words  prophetic, 

Her  mind,  I  learned,  was  filled  and  fed  on 

Wi'  visions  o'  the  Armageddon ; 

She  spoke  about  the  Greeks  and  Romans, 

'Bout  evil  eyes  and  evil  omens, 

And  tauld  me  that  the  Goths  and  Vandals 

Saw  mort-cloths  in  their  lighted  candles; 

She  stated  that  a  cross  was  seen 

Up  in  the  sky  near  Aberdeen, 

When  bauld  St.  Andrew  wi'  a  host 

Was  wand'ring  round  the  Scottish  coast; 

And  if  she  heard  a  piet  chatter 

Her  heart  would  bound  and  leap  and  flutter, 

And  if  a  hare  should  cross  her  track. 

She'd  wring  her  hands  and  turn  back, 

And  trow  it  was  a  revelation 

Of  some  tremendous  tribulation. 

Wi'  this  she  turned  up  her  eyes 

And  raved  'bout  Peden's  Propliecies  ; 

Guid  faith  !  she  nearly  cracked  my  croon, 

'Bout  Rhymer  Tarn  o'  Ereildoon. 

She  3'elled,  "Betide,  whate'er  betide, 

They'll  aye  be  Haigs  in  Bemerside," 

And  how  his  words  were  all  fuldlled 

When  Alexander  III.  was  killed  ; 

And  that  the  hoi3es  on  the  brae 

Their  girths  would  gnaw  their  sides  in  tway. 

How  Michael  Sc(.tt,  wi'  warlick  skill, 

Did  cleave  in  twain  the  Eildon  liill, 

And  kindred  topics  without  stint 

Which  I  refrain  to  put  in  print. 

Her  faults  were  great  and  very  grievous  ; 
To  reason's  voice  she  was  oblivious  ; 
Yet  this  I  say  in  her  defense, 
Aiose  from  lack  of  common  sense, 


'2Q2 


m 


f^ 


Hi  j-^i^i-'.i 


it' ill  1m 


l^'ili 


SKETCHES    ANr>    AXECDOTEft. 


And  from  the  superstitious  fire 
Of  words  from  her  dehided  sire  ; 
From  youth  to  age,  in  part  or  wI»ole, 
These  words  were  graven  on  her  soul  ; 
E'en  liiie  the  Ivy  round  the  tomb 
That  nurtures  an  eternal  gloom. 

Tiiit  was  a  man  of  sober  mind, 
And  to  his  wife  was  byous  kind, 
Although  her  faults  he  sair  lamented, 
Yet  still  he  wasna'  discontented  ; 
He  tiung  aside  his  carking  care 
And  strove  to  bear  and  to  forbear. 
Her  faults  he  could  noways  uproot  them, 
So  he  thought  less  and  less  al)oot  them. 
His  mind  was  nowi.se  framed  like  Nancy's, 
He  courted  facts  and  scowled  at  fancies  ; 
All  kinds  of  cant  he  would  deride, 
The  light  of  reason  was  his  guide. 

My  muse,  why  tarry  on  the  wing  ? 
Come  thou  with  zealous  unction  sing — 
How  on  a  bonnie  morn  in  May, 
Unto  the  hill  Tait  took  his  way. 
Now,  let  it  here  be  understood 
All  uaiure  was  in  glorious  mood  ; 
Tuc  dew  on  heather-bells  were  hingin', 
The  lav'rocks  in  the  lift  were  singin", 
But  what  'bove  a'  was  most  surprising, 
The  sun  'yont  Lnnimer-law  was  rising, 
O'er  these  and  thunder-blasts  uproarious, 
The  god  of  day  was  now  victorious. 
For  days  by- past,  I  am  assured, 
His  golden  face  had  been  obscured  ; 
Clouds  at  ilk  ither  had  been  lashing, 
In  torrents  rain  had  down  been  dashing  ; 
Down  the  hill-.side  streams  had  been  sweeping, 
And  brush  and  brake  w^ere  bent  wi'  weeping  ; 
The  birds  had  been  in  waefu'  plight, 
In  holes  had  chittered  day  and  night, 
And  sheep,  uae  doubt,  in  bielded  places. 
Saw  misery  in  ilk  ither's  faces. 

Tait  looked  the  picture  o'  dejection, 
SnufiE  brought  him  then  nae  .satisfaction, 


SKETCHES  AND  AXECDOTES. 


263 


Yea,  further,  e'en  his  very  collio 
Seemed  dozorl  and  drenched  wi'  melancholy, 
But  now  the  midge  and  fly  were  festive, 
In  consequence  the  sheep  were  restive  ; 
They  formed  instinctive  an  a]Ii,iiic(t 
And  set  Tait's  collie  at  defiance  : 
For  ano(i  poor  Tait  his  temper  lost  it, 
In  wrath  flic  slieep  he  thus  accosted  : 
"  Ye  wretches,  fain  I'd  shear  your  fleeces, 
And  hew  ye  in  ti.'ii  thousand  pie(;es  ; 
Wi'  Joy  my  baiuiet  I'd  he  swingin' 
If  by  the  heels  I  saw  ye  hingiu'. 
Ye  black-faced  brutes,  ye  needna  stare, 
This  day  y(.''vc  filled  me  with  despair  ; 
Losh,  mercy  me  !  wi'  might  and  main, 
They're  off  ;  the  brutes  are  off  again  ! 
Sic  sheep,  I  truly  do  opine, 
Are  fifty  times  far  worse  than  swine  ! 
This  thought  stands  tapmost  in  my  thoughts, 
I'd  sooner  herd  a  gang  o'  goats  ; 
It's  my  belief  sheep  are  symbolical 
Of  all  that's  base  and  diabolical  ; 
Some  senseless  folk  ha'e  written  books 
'Bout  sheep  and  lambs  and  shepherd's  crooks, 
If  they  had  sic  a  flock  as  I 
They  wadna'  rouse  them  up  sac  liigh  ; 
I'd  wad  my  mull  filled  fu  o'  sneeshin'. 
They'd  soon  consign  them  to  perdition." 

The  glomin'  came;  how  calm  and  still 
The  shadows  gather'd  on  the  hill, 
Tait  bade  a  short  farewell  to  care, 
The  midge  no  longer  tilled  the  air, 
His  flock  lay  snoosing  on  the  l)rae, 
And  hameward  now  he  took  his  way. 
But  grief  and  joy  will  come  and  go 
So  long  as  mortals  dwell  below. 
The  Fastney  burn,  he  fried  to  jump  it, 
He  missed  his  tit  and  in  lie  phnnpit; 
Oh,  wae  betide  the  Fastney  water. 
How  Tait  did  splash  and  choke  and  swatter, 
He  gained  the  bank,  hut  'mang  the  rock-, 
He  lost  his  friend,  his  auld  snuff-box  I 


TT 


\f 


M^\''[ 


(■ 


f/ 


I 


II  ■ 


^^•i 


fit 


1,1-  :j';r 


li, 


204 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


His  heels  went  up,  his  liead  <lowii  linockit, 
And  it  phiycd  wallop  out  his  pocket; 
lie  felt  his  pouch,  he  guve  a  groan, 
"My  comforter."  he  cried  "  is  gone;" 
As  grief  within  his  brain  was  wliirlin', 
His  bonnet  down  the  stream  was  birlin' — 
Sweeping  away  with  edient  motion 
To  sail  aboot  the  German  Ocean, 
Though  fast  it  went,  the  thought  came  fleeter 
'Bove  box  or  bonnet  life  is  sweeter. 
His  dog  stood  watching  the  disaster, 
It  looked  wi'  pity  on  its  master, 
And  when  upon  dry  land  it  found  him, 
Wi'  joy  it  leap'd  and  gamb(d'd  'round  him. 
Ance  mair  for  haine  Tait  took  a  start, 
Just  dripping  like  a  water-cart; 
Wi'  shorkin'  feet,  when  near  his  door, 
Xancy  cam'  out  wi'  a  great  roar, 
And  cried,  "  Guid,  ha'e  a  care  o'  me. 
Oh,  what  on  earth  is  that  I  see  V 
Oh,  dear  !  oh,  dear  !  I'll  gi'e  my  aith, 
It  is  u  great  big  water  wraith 
A-comin'  here  to  burke  and  clour  me, 
And  then  in  turn  to  devour  me." 
To  live  is  the  first  law  o'  life; 
She  seized  a  hedious  gully-knife, 
With  firm  foot  and  hand  she  stood 
In  this  defensive  attitude, 
Without  a  groan,  a  tear,  or  sneevil 
Prepared  to  kill  hog,  dog  or  deevil; 
But  Tait  cried,  "  Nancy,  what's  the  matter  ? 
It's  me;  1  fell  in  Fastney  water," 
She  cried,  "  Oh,  dear,  I  do  declare, 
I've  seen  your  wraitii  this  mcjnth  or  mair; 
Your  fate's  set  forth  in  words  precise 
111  Mr.  Peden's  Prophecies  !  " 
Tait  cried,  "  Oh,  Nancy,  stop  your  din, 
Aud  to  the  house  let  me  gang  in. 
And  with  all  speed,  I  do  insist, 
Ye'll  bring  dry  cleedin'  out  the  kist. 
When  Tait  got  dried  and  clothed  and  fed, 
He  said,  "I  think  I'll  gang  to  bed 


MKKTCIIKS    AM)    ANKCDOTKS. 

And,  Nancy,  up  upon  fhc  cIccIvh 

Hf  sure  aii()  hang  my  nu.Ie-ski,,  hn-rk^.." 

Next  morn  Tait  rose  with  littlf  ,li„ 
And  left  his  wilV  the  bed  within  ; 
As  darkness  ni  the  house  prevailed, 
To  Hud  Jiis  hreeks  he  fairly  fiii|,.,|  ' 

"%l..eeksrheeried;"Ie:uu..;getthem, 
N.'incy,  -unlwife.  wh.'r..  did  ye  pit  them  •>  " 
Quo' she,  '•[soon  will  tell  vo  that 
'Ihey'ro  o'er  the  fire  in  the  kail-pat'' 
Ye'll  find  tliem  just  as  dry's  a  hone, 
And  unco  pleasant  to  pull  on." 
He  raised  the  lid,  put  in  his  hand 
And  statue-like  lie  took  his  stand  • 
He  stood  spell-bouml.  ama/ed.  siirprise.l 
His  tlirone  o'  reason  was  capsized 

His  wits  cam' back,  and  o'er  his  shouther 
Nancy  'he  cried,  "they're  burnt  to  i^outhe-" 
S^.e  yelled.  ''01,  dear!  oh,  mercy  on  us       " 

\V  hat  s  this  o't  now  that's  come  upon  us ' 
I  1  fa.nt  !  I'll  swarf,  I'm  mair  than  ghul  ' 
I  hat  I  will  die  upon  my  bed  ; 
Frae  off  this  bed  I'll  ne'\-er  riw 
Oh,  bring  me  Peden's  Prophecies  ' 
My  last  leaf  frae  life's  tree  is  pluckit 
The  tow  may  now  gang  wi'  the  bucket  - 
Our  road  through  life  is  dark  and  murky 
We  re  now  as  poor  as  Job's  ae  turkey       ' 
Poor  beast,  'bout  it  we  weel  may  wail.' 
It  had  ae  feather  in  its  tail, 
And  it  was  sui)ple  as  a  docken 
Guid  man  I   it  was  baith  bent  ami  broken  ' 
Here  Nancy's  eyes  began  to  dance. 

She  lay  as  in  a  dismal  trance 

Then  wildly  cried,  "Ma„g  ,h,<,s  o'  gloom 

Lp  there  I  see  a  weaver's  Itjoni 

And  David,  I  must  let  ye  know  it, 

I  must  flee  up  and  hide  below  it  ■ 

And,  oh  !  there  can  be  nae  deceivin' 

I  see  my  faytlier  weavin',  weuvin',   ' 

He  looks  like  ane  in  deep  disgrace' 

How  grim  and  gruesome  is  his  face  • 
18  ' 


265 


i. 


266 


SKKKIIKS    AM)    AMiCliOTKS. 


?r 


I  i 


( 


l! 
J- 

■n 


D 


;i     I 


Tlu!  will)  lie  wotivcs,  I  pl.iiiily  see, 
Is  just  iiM  Itliick  as  l)l;(clv  can  \k\ 
It  hiis  iia(!  tlnviul  o'  liriizlilncss  in  it. 
Oil  !  David,  (■oinc  this  vciv  initiit, 
And  sL'c  that  sinn  ahiiiic  iiis  door  - 
'  Tliis  mail  must  weave  lor  evi-r  more.' 
There  Satan  sits  'maiiu;  eoom  and  siuolii'. 
Pcdntiiig  Ills  tlni^er  at  the  eloeli, 
And  glow'riiiL?  at  liis  Ivitii  and  l\in, 
Wliile  young  and  auld  are  swarming  in  ! 
Poor   things,  I'd  gi'e  a  warhl's  riehes 
Cmdjl  I  but  free  them  frae  ids  clutches. 
The  Hood  o'  life  gangs  rolling,  rolling, 
Tile  bell  is  ever  tolling,  tolling, 
The  imps  o'  darkness,  ghastly,  rife, 
Sit  winding  up  tlie  pirns  o'  life. 
Ah,  hk;,  yon  dungeons,  dykes  and  fences. 
Are  like  to  drive  me  out  my  senses. 
David,  alas,  my  race  is  run. 
My  hindtnaist  thread  o'  life  is  spun  I  " 
Here  Nancy  opened  up  her  eyes, 
She  look'd  the  picture  o'  surprise  ; 
She  cried,  "  I  see  a  Maid  in  white. 
She'8  tilled  my  heart  \vi'  strange  delight  ; 
Her  face,  her  form  is  past  compare. 
Truth  nestles  in  her  golden  hair, 
She  beckons  me  unto  her  side. 
She  says,  '  Let  reason  be  your  .guide, 
Forget  tlio  gliouls  and  myths  of  ages, 
And  turn  the  leaf  to  natures  pages.' 
Come  I  Come  I  "  slie  cries,  "  There,  there  I  see 
"Mang  bowers  of  love  she  waits  for  me.  ' 
Then  David  said,  "I  see  it  plain, 
The  myths  are  Hitting  from  your  brain." 
He  smiled,  then  on  his  knees  he  clankil. 
And  loud  be  cried,  "  .Mav  heaven  be  thaukil." 


THE  BANKS  O'  DOON. 
Tu  John  Y.  Reid,  Esq.,  Toronto,  Out.: 

Dear  Sir — The  .second   version    of   the  sonor   "  Ye 
Banks  o'  Doon  "  was  written  bv  IJnrns  for  "Johnson's 


Ye 


SKETCH  KS    AM)    ASK. 'DOTRS.  Of^-j 

M-.,so,„n  »  ami  in  :;  I.ttor  to  (^.or.o  Thompson,  of  K,Jin- 

on,.   :u.l  how  luMVi.n.l   (Mark,  ounpos..!  an  air  to  it 
Hio    hrst    version    was    first     puhlish,.,!    in    "Crom.k's 
R^"  ;,u..,"   tho    MSS.    .,•    .,.i..h   was  fo„n<l  amonrt.; 
-ts  papers.     In  a  N-tt..-  t.,  IJailantvno,    in    Jan'a,-., 
I.H.,  Hnrns  ,,uotc..s  the  Hrst  v.-rse  of  th.  Hrst  v.Tsion  :" 
"  Yv  llowery  hanks  «'  Ix.iini.'  Doon, 
How  can  ye  hlooni  sac  fair  ! 

How  can  ye  chaiit.  vc  lift  1,.  birds, 
And  I  sae  f'u'  <>'  care  !  " 

The  second   version,  hut  not  the  Hrst,  also   may  ho 
ound   .    Dr.  Currie's    edition  .f    Bu...,  puhlished    in 
IH 00.     None   of  the  versions,  however,  appear    in    the 
K.lmarnoek,  hrst  Edinburgh  edition,  second    KdinhurL^h 
edition  ,n  two  volumes,  pul,lished  in  179;^,  nor  in  the  Fal- 
kirk   edition  printed  by  T.   Johnston.     Re^.arding  this 
last  work,  which  is  very  rare,  I  am  unable  to  ..ive  the 
da  e  of  publication,  as  my  opy  unf.>rtunatelv  lacks  the 
title  page.      While  lately  on  a  visit  to    Tor'onto  I    se- 
eiired  a  volume  in  good  preservation,  c-ntitled,  -  Musical 
Ropositary  ;  a  collection  of  favorite  Scotch,  English  and 
Insh  hongs,  set  to  music-Glasgow.     l>rinted  by  Alex 
Adam,  for  A.  Carrick,  bookseller,  Saltmarket,  1709  "    It 
i«  a  work  I  had  never  seen  or  heanl  of,  ...nd  it  contains  a 
cuno.is  collection  of  lyrics  prior  to  Burns'  dav      In  this 

I    <i.scovered    a  third  version   of  the  song  in  ..uestion; 
which  I  transcribe  verbatim  : 

Vc  hanks  and  braes  i>{  hoiiiiy  Doun, 
How  can  ye  bloom  so  fresh  ]nn\  lair  ? 
How  can  ye  chant ,  ye  little  birds, 
While  I'm  so  wao  and  fu'  o'  care  ? 
Ye'll  break  my  heart,  ye  little  birds, 
That  wanton  through  the  Howering  Ihoru  • 
Ye  mind  me  of  departed  joys, 
Peparted  never  to  return. 


M 


268 


8KETCnp]S    AND    ANECDOTES. 


'I 


i 


6 


Oft  have  I  roam'd  by  bonny  Doun 
To  see  the  rose  and  woodbine  twine, 
VViiere  ilka  l)ird  sung  o'er  its  note, 
And  cheerfully  I  joined  \vi'  mine. 
Wi'  heartsonie  glee  I  pull'd  a  rose, 
A  rose  out  of  yon  thorny  tree  ; 
But  my  false  h)ve  has  stolen  the  rose. 
And  left  the  thorn  behind  to  me. 

Ye  roses,  blaw  your  bonny  blooms, 
And  draw  the  wild  birds  by  the  burn, 
F\)r  Luman  promised  me  a  ri-i;;, 
And  3'e  maun  aid  me  slioulo  i  mourn. 
Ah  !  na,  ua,  na,  ye  ncedna  mourn, 
My  eeu  are  dim  and  drowsy  worn  ; 
Ye  bonn\'  birds,  yc  ncediiu  sing, 
b'ui  Luman  never  can  return. 

My  liUman's  love,  in  broken  sighs 
At  dawn  of  day  by  I)()Un  ye'.se  hear. 
And  mid-day,  by  the  willow  green, 
For  him  I'll  slied  a  silent  tear. 
Sweet  birds,  I  ken  you'll  pity  nie, 
Ami  joi':  me  wi'  a  plain! ivc  sang, 
While  eelu)  waki's,  and  joins  the  mane 
I  m.d.'  for  him  I  lo'ed  sae  lang. 

8ir,  you  will  observe  that  in  the  above  version 
"  Dooii "  is  spelled  "Doun."  I  am  inelincd  to  think 
that  thiH  is  the  original  song  from  which  Burns  obtained 
his  two  versions,  ami  that  it  is  more  of  an  Englisli  i^ong 
than  a  Scotch  one.  The  name  "Luman,"  if  my  memory 
serves  nie  I'ight,  I  have  never  found  in  any  iSeottish 
Hong  or  ballad.  It  aj»})ears  to  me,  from  internal  evi- 
dences, that  this  song  eminated  from  the  heart  and  pen 
of  a  female  song-writci-.  Instead  of  Ayrshire,  1  am 
constrained  to  believe  that  the  scene  of  the  song  is  laiti 
in  Perthshire.  The  baronial  castle  of  "  Dcmn"  or 
"  Donne "  is  surrounded  with  romantic  scenery,  an<l 
connected  with  niiiny  interest itig  associations.  It  was 
for  some  time  the  residence  of  Mary  Stnart,  the   unfoi 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


269 


tunate  Queen  of  Scotland  ;  and  Prince  Charles  Stuart 
made  it  his  headfjuartcrs,  for  a  time,  in  1745.  Under 
these  circumstances,  I  iiavc  no  doubt  that  the  tale  of 
true  and  false  love  was  freqiientlv  told 

Regarding  these  three  versions  of  "Ye  banks  and 
braes,"  Sir,  permit  me  to  saj^  that  you  have  a  perfect 
right  to  draw  your  own  coni^lusions. 


ve  version 
1  to  tliiTik 
IS  obtained! 
iiLjli>li  song 
iiy  memory 
ly  Scottish 
iternal  evi- 
u't  and  pen 
shire,  I  am 
song  is  laitl 
'  Doun"  or 
enerv,  and 
18.  It  waH 
the    unfoi' 


Mr.  and  Mas.  TAMSON. 
[Incribed  to  T.  H.  Robkhts.  Esq  ,    Detroit  | 

John  Tamson  aud  his  ^niidwife,  Jean 

Tf)ok  notions  in  their  l)rain 
To  gang  and  see  .Jean's  a-ed  Aunt 

Out  at  the  town  of  Wayne.* 
Now,  they  were  just  as  fine  a  pair 

As  e'er  took  hold  o'  hands, 
In  fact  tliey  strove  in  deed  and  word 

To  lieep  the  ten  conmiauds. 

Now,  Jolin  drew  on  liis  overcoat, 

Which  buttoned  to  his  nock. 
And  Jean  put  on  her  tartan  pjuid, 

Also  her  seal-.skin  saciiue. 
And  she  did  wisely  keep  in  mind 

Her  mitts  and  overshoes; 
And  on  the  road,  to  post  Jolm  up. 

She  took  "The  Evening  News." 

To  please  her  Aunty,  she  resolved 

That  it  would  he  befitting 
To  take  her  out  a  pair  of  Iioso 

She  had  for  weeks  been  knitting. 
Now,  when  they  reached  the  ti(diet  door. 

Quo'  John:  "  We'll  take  a  s]eej)er," 
•'  No,  no."  quo'  Jean.     ••  Now,  take'  my  word 

A  cushioned  .seat  is  cheaper. 
*To  those  not  oonv^rsanf  witl.  ".Vpi-l.ton's  Sta.Mard  Ili^.her  Oe-j^n-apLr    ■ 

nT^u'T  ,"'"'  '^'f^'"'^  '**''•  "'  "'"  "■'^^"  "*"•'*'  '^"'•"'  '<-'"  '""'"«  *lu."  ^-.Hi  fr  ,«. 
Detroit,  -Miolugau,  Lnited  «tate8  of  Americrt.  Lat.  «:  IT    Luu  6^  W 


270 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTKS. 


(■ 


o 


"It  doesna'  do  to  sleep  on  straw, 

And  breakfast  ou  protonst-s, 
But,  J(jhn,  it's  best  on  every  hand 

To  tlirottle  the  expenses." 
When  tliey  were  seated  in  the  car, 

Quo'  Jean,  "  John,  keep  in  mind 
That  tljougli  we'll  soon  be  on  the  wing, 

That  Providence  is  kind. 

"So  sit  ye  still,  and  nurse  content, 

And  faith,  ye  may  depend. 
The  engine  soon  will  pu'  us  through 

Unto  our  journey's  end." 
Wi'  tliis  the  whistle  gave  a  blast, 

Quo'  Jean:  "John,  take  the  hint, 
And  soon  ye'll  see  that  oH"  we'll  flee 

As  fast  as  fire  from  flint. 

"The  steam  is  up,  oh,  John  !  oh  John  ? 

I  feel  so  calm,  so  glad; 
I  feel  as  safe  as  if  I  was 

At  hame  In  my  own  bed." 
8he  lookit  through  the  window,  and 

Upon  the  landscape  spying, 
She  cried:  "  Oh,  John,  look  out,  look  out. 

The  very  trees  are  flying."' 

John  keekit  out  and  said  it  seems 

As  if  the  earth  was  loupin'; 
Then  instantly  he  grasped  Jean's  hand 

And  held  it  in  his  goupen. 
Now,  from  hrr  reticule  she  drew 

Bread,  cheese,  and  twa  three  eggs; 
She  sprang  !  she  roared  !  "  Oh,  John,  a  bolt 

Has  struck  me  on  the  legs  I  " 

Pale  grew  her  check,  how  pale,  how  wan, 

Pale  as  tlie  silvery  light 
That  shimmers  on  the  silent  pool 

Ui)on  the  lull  o'  niglit. 
John  lodkit  down  and  tliere  he  saw 

(_)ne  uf  the  rO'istcr  race; 
It  raised  its  head,  it  clapped  its  wings, 

And  crewel  right  in  his  face. 


SKKtrilES    AM)    ANECDOTES. 


J  oh 


n  s 


lid,  "  Yt'  brute,  what  tciiiptcd  ve 


To  dilf  my  wife  like  that 


I  wisli  I  had  V 


■ou  al  our  liaiiie 


D.eep  (low  11  in  our  kail-pat. 


They  ehaiiued  their 


•^'■ats,  i(  wasna'  laiiy: 


Till  Jean  cried:  "  Mercy,  mv. 
From  out  the  luni  a  cinder's  come 
And  struck  ine  in  the  eye." 

Jolm'.s  mind  with  agony  was  struck; 
His  haiidkercliief  he  drew 


And  witli  it  took  t 


le  ciiKlir  from 


llei'  eye,  so  honnie  blue. 
They  rolled  alouis,  and  all  the  road 

Jean  sorely  did  complain, 
rntij  a  man  llun^;  wide  the  door 


And  tenderly  cried,  ••  W; 


ivne 


Now.  when  on  reaching-  Aunty's  door 

Their  welcome  was  hut  scant, 
As  she  had  n(),|,.  (,>  Hut  tie  Creek 

rpon  her  marriai:c  jaunt. 
When  Jean  heard  this  sl>e  wrun<,^  her  haiid.s 


And  cried:  "  C)h,  did 


ve  ever 


The  Tootlde.ss  jade,  she  should  be  d 
Deep  in  the  deepest  river. 

"My  ijoodness,  me,  that's  news  indeed 
Tiiat  takes  my  breath  away; 

The  .-senseless  ass  !     She's  sa.xty-uine 
(^)me  next  St.  Andrew's  day." 

Quo' John:   "This  ([ueer  outlandi.sh  nl 


lown'd 


plov 


Is  past  my  coniprehension: 

She's  ill  her  dotage,  by  my  soul 

She's  ill  her  la-t  declension. 

"Bout  ship,"  he  cried,  and  then  he  .said 

Some  wt)rd>  that  I'll  not  iiain-'; 
Then  Jean  cried  out:  "( 


ome,  John,  mv  dear, 


There  is  no  place  like  ham.'  ; 
Nov.-,  when  they  reached  their 

John  thus  to  Jean  did  speak 
"  I  hope  your  L'ncle  .md  your  Aunt 

Arehame  from  Battle  Creek," 


271 


own  snug  hame, 


27  2 


8KKTCI1ES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


r 


o 


At  tliia  n^niitrk  Jean  laughed  outright, 

Then  Sivid;  "O,  did  yo  ever  I 
I  diniia  care  thougii  they  sliould  stay 

111  Batth'  Creek  forever  1 " 
Now,  Wi<lo\v  Gunii  enin'  liirpliii'  in 

And  unto  Jean  she  says: 
"I  tliought  ye  would  stay  wi'  your  aunt 

The  feck  o'  twa  three  days." 

Quo'  Jean:  "She's  wed;"  when  this  I  heard 

I  couldna'  weel  d(!fend  her, 
Yet  from  my  heart  I  fondly  hope 

That  good  may  aye  attend  her, 
"And  should  she  bring  her  bridegroom  here, 

My  certy,  nie  and  John 
Will  point  U)  tliein  racks,  pegs  and  pins 

Their  clothes  to  liang  upon." 

Now,  Widow  GuTin  cried,  "Mercy  me, 

Y(»ur  Aunty  might  think  shame, 
Siie's  had  three  men,  but  look  at  me, 

I've  no  ane  to  my  name  I 
Bu'  heavon  miy  send  me  yet  a  mm," 

And  tlien  she  g;ive  a  sneevil; 
And  then  slie  .said,  "My  faith,  they  are — 

A  necessary  evil  !  " 


I       ! 


I  WONDER  TO  HEAR  YE. 

John  Bathgate  was  a  substantial  manufacturer.  In 
his  youthful  years,  a  caUant  o'  the  name  o'  Willj^  Shaw, 
was  his  great  cronie.  As  before  stated,  John  had  pros- 
pered, but  Willy,  on  the  contrar}'^,  had  gane  back  in  the 
warld.  "Sow,  John,  remembering  tlieir  former  friend- 
slii)),  took  cotnpassio  on  Willy,  and  took  him  into  his 
aiti  iioi  se,  and  clotlied  Iiim  aiui  fed  liiin  on  tiie  very  best. 
Now,  John  was  an  auld  bachelor,  and  had  nae  wife  in 
liis  hou.se  to  sae  to  iiim,  "John,  do  this,"  or  "  Jolm,  d« 
the  other  thing."  The  result  was,  the  twasome  erackfd 
awa,  unmolested,  to  their  heart's  content.  Ae  day 
Willy  disappeared,  and   when   lie  came   back   Mr.  Bath- 


SivETCIlES    AN'D    ANKCDOTES. 


2li\ 


gate  said,  "  Losh,  man,  Willy,  where  in  a'  the  earth  ha'e 
ye  been  ?  Giiid  guide  us  a',  your  l)reath  smells  like  a 
whiskey-barrel  wi'  the  bung  oot."  "  Tuts,  get  awa  wi' 
ye,"  quo'  Willy.  *'  I  wonder  to  heai-  ye.  I  ha'e  aften 
felt  your  ain  breath  smelling  like  a  whiskey-still,  but  I 
didna'  think  it  worth  ma  while  to  say  onything 
aboot  it." 


BITE  ABOOT. 

[Inscribed  to  Miss  .Jeanie  Bell,  Toronto,  Ont.j 

All  auld  man  '^at  at  Iiis  how^  r  door 

Upon  a  simmer's  day, 
And  watched  a  little  lad  and  lass 

Sao  merry  at  their  play. 

At  leiigtli  thi'  little  lass  ran  in, 

And  she  said  1o  her  mither, 
"  Ma,  ma,  I  want  a  buttered  scon  > 

Vur  me  and  my  wee  brother." 

When  out  the  little  lassie  cam', 
How  sweet  she  look'd,  I  ween, 

And  tiien  the  twu  wi'  ae  accord 
Sat  down  upon  th(!  green. 

She  laugh'd  sae  kindly  in  his  face, 

Sac  cunning  and  sae  cute 
When  she  cried  out,  "  O  Tam  !  we'll  eaf— 

We'll  eat  it  bite  aboot." 

How  pleased  th?y  sat,  contentment  smil'd- 

Nae  selfishness  was  there; 
The  auld  man  nosed  his  ey(\s  and  sai  1, 

"God  blgss  this  lilUi;  pair.  ' 

A  less(m  fi-om  tliis  may  lie  drawn, 
Which  some  will  draw  nae  doot, 

Miiir  kindly  words  were  never  said  — 
"We'll  eat  it  bile  aboot." 

"We'll  eat  ii  ...te  aboot,"  she  said, 

"  We'll  eat  '•.  -"^e  aboot," 
Mair  kindly  w  .r^js  were  never  -^aid 

'We'll  cut  il  bile  aboot" 


274 


BKETiMKS    AND    ANKODOTES. 


I- 


o 


McCALLUM  AM)  THE  WITCH. 

(IiiserilM-'i  to  Stewaut  Makk--.  Kvii..  Dftinil.] 

Scotland,  as  well  as  oUrt  coiuitries,  was  at  one  time 
greatly  infested  witli  Witches,  so  niiu-h  so  tliat  ninnl)ers 
of  people  kept  certain  articles  in  theii-  houses,  and  on 
tlieir  persons,  as  a  fancied  protection  against  their  evil 
madiinations.  Tliese  Witches  are  generally  re))resented 
to  have  been  mi>erable  old  withered  ha^'s,  decrei)it  in 
Klature  and  hrimful  of  spite,  spleen  and  inalii^nant  mis- 
chief and  bedevilment,  Tliey  were  more  abundant  than 
Warlocks  for  the  reason  it  is  said  that  Satan  has  more 
p(»wer  o\er  the  .sex  on  account  of  P^ve's  blundering 
weakness  in  the  Garden  of  Kden.  They  were  divided 
into  three  clauses,  lilack,  White  and  (Trey — the  first  could 
hurt,  the  second  could  help,  aiul  the  last  could  both  help 
and  hurt.  It  was  the  general  belief  that  thev  made  a 
Contract  with  Satan — selling  him  their  souls  and  bodies 
for  which  he  gave  theni  the  jtowc"  to  change  themselves 
into  cats,  dogs,  or  any  othei-  animal  that  suited  their 
purpose  or  inclination.  The  common  151ack  Witch  had 
the  power  of  flying  through  the  air  mounted  on  a 
bro  .mstick,  branch  of  the  Irendock,  or,  according  to 
James  Hogg,  they  sometimes  "  saddled  tludr  nags  on  the 
moonfern  leaf."  They  frequently  met  in  chui'ch-yards, 
antl  one  woman  confessed  that  Satan  went  before  them 
dancing  in  the  sha})e  of  a  dog  and  ]>laying  on  a  pair  of  bag- 
fii)»es  I  A  great  number  of  methods  were  ado[>ted  to 
prove  that  a  Witch  was  a  Witch.  One  ])laii  was  to  put 
her  in  a  pair  of  scales  and  Aveigh  her  against  the  Church 
Bible,  and  if  she  was  lieavier,  she  wis  inmiediately 
found  guilty.  Anotlier  m('th(»(l  was  to  make  them  at- 
tempt to  repeat  the  Lord'-;  prayer,  which  few  of  them 
Were  able  to  do  correctly.     But  the  general  plan  was  to- 


SKETCHES    AM)    ANECDOTES. 


'JTr) 


)ag- 
(l  to 
.lit 
urcli 
It  fly 
1  at- 
hem 
LS  to 


biiiil  them  crosswise,  vi/:  the  ric^ht  thumb  to  (lie  lift 
toe,  and  tlie  left  thumb  to  the  right  toe,  ami  then  throw 
them  into  a  pond  or  river,  and  if  innoeent  they  w mild 
Bwiiu,  and  if  guiltv  they  would  sink.  It  was  also  the 
common  belief  that  a  Witch  could  not  wt'C)*  more  than 
three  tears,  and  that  only  out  of  the  left  eyi',  and  this 
lack  of  weeping  was  consi<h'red  by  the  sci'kcrs-out  (,»f 
Witches,  and  by  tlu'  ignorant  and  superstitious  judges, 
as  a  decided  |>roof  of  guilt.  It  is  revolting  to  human 
nature  to  read  the  diabolical  accounts  of  the  trials  and 
persecutions  that  these  poor,  miserable  weak-minded 
creatures  were  subjected  to.  When  sus|»e('ted  of  boing 
a  Witch,  and  when  put  to  the  torture,  they  frcMpu'iitly 
confessed  that  they  were  in  league  with  Satan;  but  it 
mattered  little  whether  they  made  a  confession  or  not, 
for,  without  either  the  "  why  or  the  wherefore,"  the\' 
Were  pronounced  guilty.  In  many  i)laces  in  Scotlaml 
the  "Witches'  knowe"  is  pointed  out  whci'e  they  were 
burned  to  death.  In  the  reign  of  James  I.  an  act  was 
passed  against  Witchcraft,  one  clause  of  which  runs  thus: 
"Any  person  who  shall  ]>ractice  or  exorcise  any  witch- 
craft, enchantment,  cliarm,  or  sorcery,  wheieby  any 
person  shall  be  killed,  destroyed,  wasted,  consume*!, 
pined,  or  lamed  in  his  or  her  body,  or  any  part  thereof, 
such  offender,  duly  and  lawfully  convicted,  shall  suffer 
death."  And  no  later  than  the  reign  of  George  I.  was 
this  statute  repealed.  Since  the  schoolmaster  is  abroad 
the  bogles,  ghosts,  witches,  warlocks,  fairies,  brownies, 
asypodes,  water-wraiths,  and  kelpies  have  entirely  dis- 
appeared. 

The  following  tradition  illustrates  the  once  common 
belief  in   Witches  in  general,  and  the  <»rey   Witch   in 


pa 


•ticuli 


ir 


fi^l 


27(5 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


!■ 


o 


ThcM'e  was  a  man  and  his  name  was  John  McCalhim, 
and  he  resided  at  liallaehhivan,  Island  of  Ishiv,  Arjjcvle- 
sliire.  One  day  he  went  to  Balli<>rant  for  the  pnrpose  of 
getting  some  horse  liarness  repaired  by  a  saddler  wliose 
name  was  Duncan  MeDermaid,  and  who  resided  in  that 
place.  After  the  liarness  was  mended,  tlie  two  being 
old  friends,  and  liclieving  that  the  bands  of  friendship 
could  not  be  tightened  without  a  dram,  they  paid  a  visit 
to  the  inn  kept  by  Peter  Douglas.  One  glass  followed 
another,  and  they  sat  until  midnight  singing  songs  with 
great  glee,  telling  strange  and  queer  stories  and  drink- 
ing to  one  another's  goovl  health. 

Care's  lugs  were  cuff'd,  nae  hole  had  he  to  hide  in. 
Sac  off  lie  sulk'd  and  joy  was  left  prcsidiu'. 

When  John  MeCallum  at  length  rose  to  go  home, 
the  landlord  and  John  MeDermaid  prayed  upon  him,  as 
he  valued  his  life,  not  to  go,  but  to  remain  until  day- 
light, as  a  Witch  and  Warlock  at  a  place  called  Imara 
Conard  would  allow  no  one  to  pass  after  regular  hours. 
McCalluni  was,  however,  of  a  stubborn  and  foolhardy 
disposition,  and  turned  a  deaf  ear  to  their  urgent  solic- 
itations. In  a  moment  of  bravado  he  called  for  another 
gill  by  way  of  deochan  doralsli,  or  stirrup-cup,  and  as  a 
toast  he  gave  "Here's  to  the  old  Warlock  !  "  which  toast 
made  the  blood  of  his  two  companions  curdle  in  their 
very  veins.  He  uhen  took  his  staff,  shook  hands  with 
liis  friends  and  started  on  his  homeward  journey,  but 
little,  little  did  he  know  the  troubles  that  were  before 
liim.  As  he  was  going  through  a  wild  and  dreary  spot 
he  behekl  two  unearthly  objects  suddenly  approach,  and 
by  the  faint  light  of  the  moon  he  saw  that  one  was  the 
Grey  Witch  and  the  other  the  Grey  Warlock  of  the  glen  ! 
The  Witch  looked  with  fury  at  the  man,  she  raised  her 


SKKTCirKS    AXD    AXECDOTKS. 


377 


day- 


hand  and  she  said,  '^  Where  goest  thou,  AfcC^illum  ? 
You  shall  not  go  any  fui-tlier  !  Tliere  sliall  l)o  weeping 
and  wailing  at  Hallachiaveii  to-morrow  !  You  drank  the 
health  of  the  Grey  Warlock  and  yuii  slighted  me,  the 
Grey  W^itch  of  Lnara  (\)nard."  fSIie  gave  a  scream  and 
Hew  at  McCnllum,  and  would  have  torn  out  his  heart 
had  not  the  Grey  Warlock  si)rang  between  the  two.  She 
Hew  round  and  round,  while  Hames  of  tire  issued  out  of 
her  nostrils,  and  ever  and  anon  she  muttered  words  of 
nameless  vengeance  !  At  every  breath  she  blew,  the 
lightning-  'lashed  and  the  thunder  bellowed  amongst 
the  hills  !  With  trembling  steps,  under  the  j.rotection 
of  the  Warlock,  MeCallum  at  last  reached  his  uwn  door. 
The  Warlock  then  said,  "  Farewell,  McCallum!  and  know 
that  under  your  own  roof,  from  the  rising  to  the  setting 
of  the  sun,  you  are  safe  from  the  Grey  Witch  of  Imara 
Conard;  but  remember,  if  you  are  found  out  of  doors 
when  darkness  shrouds  the  mountains,  your  days  on  this 
earth  are  ended  !  " 

Night  after  night  there  were  strange  noises  heard 
round  McCallum's  house,  and  after  sunset  l;e  never  ven- 
tured forth  uidess  accompanied  by  a  friend,  as  the  Grey 
Witch  was  ever  hovering  near.  At  length  he  became 
80  annoyed  at  her  presence,  that  with  the  view  of  getting 
rid  of  her,  he  consulted  several  old  women  who  were  well 
versed  in  the  ways  and  manners  of  spirits,  visible  and 
invisible.  They  came  to  the  conclusion  that  his  wisest 
course  was  to  consult  Donald  McLellan,  commonly 
known  as  the  Red  Warlock  of  Esldnish.  Accordingly 
McCallum  laid  his  case  before  him,  but  he  replied,  "  I 
can  do  nothing,  as  these  matters  are  too  near  my  own 
door,  but  get  a  boat  and  sail  to  the  Island  of  Mull,  between 
sunrise  and  sunset,  and  then  goto  the  house  of  the  Witch 


278 


SKKTCHKS    AM)    ANEODOTES. 


if- 


c: 
O 


of    Mull.     Take  those  tokens," — and  the  ReJ  Warlock 
gave  liiin  two  cat's  claws  and   two  pair  of  dog's  tusks, 
[lacked    in  a   goat's  liorn, — "and   when  you  get   to  the 
door,  rattle  the  horn  and  cry  out,  '  Peace  be  here,'  and 
the  Witch   will   immediately  appear."     MoCallum  then 
proceeded  home  and  made  pi'epai'ations  for  Ins  journey. 
He  found  little  rest  that  night,  as  the  (rrev  NVitch  made 
such  unearthly  noises,  which  made  iiim  y'roan  and  moan 
and     start    at    every    breath    he    <lrew.       Yet     when 
the      sun     rose     next     morning      lie      was     ready     to 
venture.      He    launched      his     boat,      and     the    wiixi 
being    favorable,    he   soon    crossed    the    channel    and 
reached     his     destination      in      safety.       With     little 
trouble  he  found  the  door  of  the  Witch's  cabin,  and  lie 
cried  "  Peace  be  here."      lie  rattled  the  horn,  and  be- 
fore the  last  rattle  ceased  the  Witch  appeared,  and  she 
said,  "I  am  at  your  service,  iVIcCallum."     "  How  do  you 
know  my  name  is  McCallum  ?"  lie  inquired.     "  T  know 
by  the  lioi-n  that  you  hold  in  your  liand,"  she  replied, 
"I  also  know  the  place  you  came  from,  the  one  who 
sent   you,    and  likewise  your  errand.     McCallum  !  the 
sun  is  about  to  sink  in  the  west,  repair  to  that  hut,  the 
Blacksmith  is  tliere  and  in  the  act  of  kindling  a  lire,  but 
first  leave  me  one  of  the  cat's  claws,  and  a  pair  of  the 
tusks   of  the   dog  and  then  I    will   be   able  to  protect 
myself  against  the  Witch  of  Imara  Conard,  and  when  yon 
go  to  the  door  of  the  hut  shake  the  horn,  and  the  Black- 
smith will  beckon  vou  to  come  in,  and  do  whatever  he 
says,  but  for  the  life  of  you  make  no  answer."     True  to 
the  words  of  the  Witch,  he  found  the  Blacksmith,  who 
said,  "  Draw  near  and  take  hold  of  the  bellows,  McCal- 
lum !  "     Then  the  Blacksmith  took    hold  of  a  rod  of 
steel,  and,  after  placing  it  in  the  fire,  he  took  a  well- 


SKIOTCIIKS    AND    AVKODOTKS.  ■J'JC) 

worn  horsr-slio..  an.l  nnih-.l  it  ..v,.,-  tin-  .lo.w  lo  pivvont 
theentran.H.  ofthc  vsW  spirits  „r  tli,.  ;,ir.      WIhm.   this 
was   aecr.MiplislK'.l,  1„.  ,.n,,,|,  -  lilow,   .Mc(  \illuni  !  "  ;iM,i 
MfCalituM    I.K.w,   l,u!    uttore.l    novcr  a    wonl.     As   tho 
8teol  was  ,.,.,tin..  hot  a  nois.  was  hranl   in   ,1,,.  air,  an<i 
the  Groy  Witrl,  of  In.ara   Conanl  a,.|.,.ar..i  at  tl.o  .loor, 
but   .larc.l    n..t    vcntinv  past  the  horso-sh.K>  !     At    thirt 
niotnont  a  hiri^o  Mack  Ao.jr  <..,„,(■  from  o.u'  eon.cr  of  the 
hut,  and  \ay  down  .-los*'  to  tho  anvil.      Wlien   'he  stool 
was  takon  ont  of  tho  fire  luirnino-  hot,  and,  althou-h  tho 
sj.arks  How  over  the  doj.  i,,  all  rlirootions,  ho  lay  as  still 
as  doath.     Tho  IJIacksniith  again  placod  tho  stool  in  tho 
tiro,  and  aLraiii  ho  oriod,  "  JJlow,  MoCalli 


door  tho  Witch 


uin  !  "  and  at  tho 
scroanied  in  agony,  as  sho  know  tho  spoil 


she  had  cast  upon  ^[cCalluni  was  al 


P 
)out  to  bo  broken  ! 


When  tho  spoar  was  fashiojiod  to  tho  satisf 


tho  Blacksmith,  ho  hold  it  over  his  head 


must  be  tempered  in  the  bodv  of 


and 


lotion  of 
<'»-iod,  '-'rhis 


I  man  or  the  hody  of 


a  dog,"  and  McCallum   saw   death  staring  } 
face,    but  the  Blacksmith,  with  tho  arm  o{ 
dashed    it  through  tho  body  of  the  dog!      \V1 


iim   in  tlio 
V(Migoance, 


was  done,  the  C 


>on   this 


iroy  Witch  gave  ai 


vanished    as    sudden  1 


1   unearthly  veil  an<l 


^[oCallum  set  sail  with  the  sj.ear  in  J 


y   as    sh(>    apj)oarod  !     Next    d 


tl 


10  injunction  that  ho  should  i 


ly 


lis  ]iossession,   with 


sunset,  otherwise  tho   Witcl 


lover  l>o   without    it,  after 


end  to  his  davs  !     U 


>   would  ))ut   ,11,    imme(liat( 


about   10  o'clock 


0  reached  homo  tl 


10   next   evening, 


P 


,  111  great  glee  and  without  inolestat 


or  years  after  ho  carried  on  his   f 


ion. 


vsafety,  till   one   harvest 


irming  opt'rations  ii 


tain  in  o-  the 


ovening   he    loft   h 


IS   vest,  con- 


pear,  at  one  end  of  the  field,  and  heedlessly 


remained   at    work  after  tho  shearers  had 


The  sun  went  down  !     II 


gone  horn; 


e  s 


aw  the  Grey  Witch  appo 


ir 


1 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


1.0 


I.I 


IM  lilM 

1132 


114 

40 


IM 
1.8 


1.25 

1.4      1.6 

■* 6"     

► 

V] 


<^ 


/A 


^>J 


c*. 


^l 


W     o^ 


0^ 


i-> 


^r 


y 


/a 


Photographic 

Sciences 
Corporation 


d 


4k 


V 


^<^ 


V 


fi  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  NY.  14580 

(716)  872-4503 


:\ 


\ 


^y^^  '^ 


iL^.. 


1 


'■'I 


380 


8KBTCIIKH    AND    ANKCDOTKH. 


>i. 


II 


c 

0 


i'   i 

L  I 

j 

(1 

ii  i 


n       •  -  ''I 
ik^        .11  t 


with  the  spear  in  her  hand  !  Ho  tried  to  evade  her, 
but  with  a  howl  she  cried,  *' McCallinn,  you  are  mine  !  " 
and  she  hurled  the  spear  througli  McCalluni's  heart  ! 

The  spear  was  found  next  day  in  his  body  an<l  was 
carefully  preserved  for  many  t^enerations.  It  was 
brouglit  to  this  country  in  the  year  18")  1,  and  is  now  in 
the  possession  of  Mr.  Niel  Taylor,  Piper  to  the  St.  An- 
drew's Society  of  Detroit.  Little  more  remains  to  be 
iaid,  with  the  exception  of  this,  that  one  of  the  bards 
wrote  McCallum's  epitaph  in  Gaelic,  which  is  thus  freely 
translated  for  the  first  time  into  English: 

Here  lies  the  body  of  John  McCiiUuni, 

An  awful  death  did  once  bef.-ill  him. 

Tlie  Grey  Witch  cuino  and  with  wicked  art 

She  plunged  a  spear  through  iiis  vital  part; 

He  is  (lead  I  he  is  gone  I  he  lies  at  rest, 

He  died  in  the  field  withoiit  his  vest; 

If  the  spear  had  been  out  of  the  Witch's  way 

His  breath  woulil  have  been  in,  his  body  this  day. 


THE  DOWNFALL  OF  THE  STOVE. 
[Insuribed  to  Judok  Bahtlet,  WindBor,  Out.] 

One  night  I  sat  devoid  o'  care, 
A-huraming  o'er  an  auld  Scotch  air, 
When  in  my  wife  rushed  wi'  despair, 

And  me  slie  much  eiirpris'd; 
She  cried  ''  Oh,  dear  !  oh,  mercy  me, 
I'm  ready  to  lie  down  and  dee — 

The  kitchen  stove's  capsiz'd  1 " 

My  goodness,  I  did  get  a  fright; 
My  hair  stood  up,  then  turne<l  white; 
I  rose,  I  ran  wi'  a'  my  might 

On  hearing  her  sad  story  ; 
I  looked,  a  tear  drop  tilled  my  e'e, 
For,  oh,  the  wreck  reminded  me 

Of  Sodom  uud  Gomorrah  ! 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES, 


281 


Our  kitchen  stove,  (.iir  joy  and  pride  ! 
Lay  vvlioininlcd  up  upon  its  side, 
And,  mercy  nic.  oh.  woe  betide. 

I  swore,  while  my  wife  ^'rumhl'd; 
For,  when  the  wrctclied  i)ipes  fell  down, 
She  got  a  whack  upon  the  crown, 

And  down,  woes  me,  she  tunibl'd. 

Quo-  she.  "That  pipe's  concussed  my  braiu 
But  It  is  needless  to  oinphun;  ' 

We'll  set  our  auld  friend  up  again, 

Wi' little  toil  or  fash; 
And  then,  guidnian.  'tween  you  and  me, 
I  will  infuse  a  cup  o"  tea, 

And  warm  up  the  hash." 

Wi'  that  I  soon  threw  olf  my  coat, 
A  fulcrum  and  a  lever  got, 
Tlien  on  its  feet,  I  weel,  I  wot, 

The  stove  made  its  appearance. 
And  then  cpioth  I,  "  Guidwife,  I  pray. 
Kemember  this  both  night  and  day—  ' 
There's  naught  like  perseverance." 

''Juo'  she  ••  The  stove  .stands  brawly  there. 
The  pipes  must  now  demand  our  care" 
Quo'  I.  •'  Guidwife.  just  say  nae  mair,' 

My  heart's  as  light's  a  feather,  ' 
For  sometlung's  whispered  in  my  car- 
Sir,  sir,  ye  need  not  stove  pipes  fear, 

Ye'll  soon  put  them  together.'' 

I  failed  to  liud  their  kith  and  kiu, 
I  pulled  them  ..ui,  1  pu.shed  theni  in, 
I  hammered  them  wi'  niickle  din, 

When  up  my  temper  rose,' 
I  struck  a  length  wi'  mad  despair. 
It  gave  a  bound  up  itj  the  air, 

And  struck  me  on  the  nose. 

Quoth  r,  "  My  dear,  my  love,  my  sweet, 
There's  sometimes  wisdom  in  retreat," 
So  out  I  ran  and  down  the  street, 
iMy  faith  I  did  not  tarry  ' 
19  ^' 


282 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


I 


.'I 


1- 

i ,. 


* 


i 


',!'i 


l!l    If 


I  cried  "  IIo  !  boatman,  seize  j'our  our 
Anrl  row  ine  to  the  other  shore,. 
Oh  I  row  me  o'er  the  ferry." 

Wlien  o'er  the  stream  I  did  not  fail 
To  tell  Judge  Bartlet  my  sad  tale, 
Who  sent  me  down  to  Sandwich  jail 

An  errand  with  a  letter, 
And  when  they  saw  my  .scarts  and  scars, 
They  placed  me  in  behinil  the  bars, 

Until  my  nose  grew  better. 

And  now  behind  these  bars,  I  swear 
I'll  handle  stove  pipes  never  niair, 
They've  brought  on  me  a  world  o'  care — 

The  deevil  tak'  them  a'; 
And  this  opinion  I'll  maintain 
Though  I  should  live  as  lang  agaii; 

As  that  auld  man  Methuselah, 

AITLICATION. 

And  now  to  young  and  old,  I  send 

This  sad  and  doleful  wail. 
Keep  from  Judge  Bartlet  and  the  road 

That  leads  to  Sandwich  jail. 


THE  MINISTER  AND  THE  MAX. 

Oor  minister  had  a  man  o*  wark,  and  his  name  was 
Auld  Tammie  Anderson.  He  was  a  kind  o'  conooited  body, 
yet  he  meant  well  enough  as  far  as  his  gumption  would 
allow.  He  was  cross-grained  and  stubborn,  and  though 
his  mistakes  were  pointed  out  and  laid  before  him,  3'et 
he  would  find  excuses,  and  argue  that  he  was  right  and 
everybody  else  in  the  wrong.  One  day  the  minister 
went  into  the  stable  and  fotind  that  Tammie  had  cut 
cverv  individual  hair  from  off  his  horse's  tail.  In  fact, 
it  was  as  bare  as  a  beard  newlv  shaven.  The  minister 
reproached  him  and  reproved  him.  He  said,  "  Thomas, 
how  did  it  enter  into  your  head  to  do  that?  I  can 
never  ride  out  on  that  horse  till  his  tail  grows.  Were  I 
to  do  so  I  would  be  a  laughing-stock  to  all  the  people  in 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


283 


the  country-side."  "Tuts,"  replied  Tammie,  "ye  din na 
seem  to  tak'  into  consideration  that  the  winter  has  set 
in,  and  that  the  horse  has  now  nae  use  for  a  single  hair 
on  his  tail.  For  ye  ken,  sir,  the  horse-clegs  and  midges, 
sir,  are  a'  gane  to  the  decvil." 


MY  BONNIE  BAIRN. 

[Inscribed  to  Miw.  Wanlkss.J 

la  my  auld  hiune  we  had  a  flower, 

A  bonnie  bairnie,  swcci  and  fair  ; 
There's  no  a  tlower  in  yonder  bower 

That  wi'  my  bairnie  could  compare. 
There  was  nae  gloom  aboot.our  house, 

Ilis  merry  laugh  was  fu'  o'  glee  ; 
The  welfare  o'  my  bonnie  bairn 

Was  mair  than  world's  wealth  to  me. 

And  aye  he'd  sing  his  wee  bit  sang. 

And,  O,  he'd  make  my  heart  sae  fain, 
When  he  would  climb  upon  my  knee 

And  tell  me  that  he  was  my  ain. 
The  bloom  has  faded  frae  his  cheek, 

The  light  has  vanished  frae  his  c'e  ; 
There  is  a  want  baith  but  and  ben. 

Our  house  nae  mair  is  fu'  o'  glee. 

I'll  ne'er  forget  the  tender  smile 

That  tlitted  o'er  his  wee  bit  face. 
When  death  came  on  his  silent  wing. 

And  clasp 'd  him  in  his  cold  enil)race. 
We  laid  him  in  the  lonesome  grave. 

We  laid  him  doon  wi'  niickle  care  ; 
'Twas  like  to  break  my  licurt  in  twain 

To  leave  my  bonnie  dailiuix  there. 

The  silent  tears  unbidden  came, 

The  waefu'  tears  o'  bitter  woe  ; 
Ah  !  little,  little  did  I  think 

That  death  would  lay  my  darlins,'  low. 
At  midnight's  lone  and  mirky  hour, 

When  wild  the  angry  tempests  rave, 
My  thoughts — they  winna  bide  away— 

Frae  my  ain  bairnie's  wee  bit  grave. 


284 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTEH. 


i!'i  I 


it; 


.1 


!    I 

n 


ii 


n:  > 


THE  SARNIA  TUNNEL  REVISITED. 

[Inscribed  ta  Matob  Watson,  Samia,  Ont.] 

I  didna  feel  just  unco  weel, 

Sae  after  sage  opinions, 
I  thought  I'd  gang  and  eet  my  foot 

Upon  the  Queen's  dominions. 
Bae  after  taking  tlie  liand-shaliinjr, 

And  after  life  insurin'. 
I  found  mysel'  in  Samia  toon, 

Right  opposite  Port  Huron. 

I  slept  a'  night  till  niornin'  light, 

And  after  breakfast  rations, 
I  started  doon  the  road  to  view 

The  tunnel  excavations. 
Some  gormandizx'rs  love  to  see 

A  sheep-head  or  a  sausage. 
But  as  for  me  I'd  sooner  view 

A  subterraneous  passage . 

The  bairns  were  playing  'bout  the  doors, 

The  bonnic  birds  were  singin' 
And  in  the  orchards  on  the  trees 

The  apples  red  were  hingin'. 
The  mighty  river  rolled  along. 

By  many  a  streamlet  fed, 
Un.aindful  of  the  diggers  who 

Were  digging  'neath  her  bed. 

And  wlien  I  reached  the  tunnel  warks, 

I  rappit  at  the  door, 
When  twa  three  brutes  o'  senseless  dogs 

Set  up  an  unco  roar. 
And  soon  a  man  cried  out,  "  Wha's  there  ?  " 

And  when  he  drew  the  pin, 
He  said,  "  Just  gang  the  road  ye  cam': 

I  canna'  let  ye  in. '" 

Quoth  I,  "  Ouidman,  below  the  ground 

We  are  uniting  nations, 
But  'bove  the  ground  I  trow  ye'ye  got 

Unfriendly  regulations. 


SKETCHKS    AM)    ANBCI>0TK8. 


285 


"I  represent  our  Uncle  Sam, 

And  I  ha'e  come  to  see  je, 
And  our  intentions  are  l>  keep 

On  social  footings  wi'  ye. 

"  Now  let  me  in,"  but  faith  wi'  thia 

He  grew  a  wee  thought  bolder. 
Sae  on  my  heel  I  turned  about 

And  gave  him  the  cold  shoulder. 
And  then  I  hurried  doon  the  toon 

Wi'  breast-bone  on  expansion. 
And  soon  I  found  myscl'  within 

The  Mayor's  friendly  niansiou. 

I  look'd  around,  I  saw  a  man 

Upon  a  muckle  chair, 
And  then  I  said,  "Sir,  may  I  ask 

If  ye're  Port  Sarnia's  Mayor  ?  ' 
He  answered  '•  Yes,"  and  soon  I  Maw 

He  had  nae  spark  o'  pride. 
And  then  I  told  him  I  belonged 

Unto  the  other  side. 

I  told  him  'bout  the  tunnel  man 

Which  I  above  have  stated. 
And  then  desired  that  he  forthwith 

Should  be  incarcerated. 
He  then  replied,  "  I  know  the  man. 

He  has  both  sons  and  daughters, 
And  for  their  sakes  I'll  throw  some  oil 

Upon  the  troubled  waters. 

"  Take  my  advice  and  .say  no  more; 

His  act  might  lead  to  war. 
We'll  smoke  the  pipe  o'  peace,"  he  bow'd, 

And  I  took  a  cigar. 


A  FAITHFUL  WIFE. 

Jenny  Clapperton   wa.s  a  servant-lass  at  the  manse 

and  she  was  considered  by  the  minister,  the  elders  and 

others,  as  a  great  cook.     She  got  tired  of  service,  and 

took  a  notion  into  her  head  to  get  married  to  George 


286 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


Blair.  One  Sunday  evening  George  said  to  her  "  Jenny 
ye  ha'e  just  half  hungered  me  this  blessed  day."  Wi' 
this  Jenny  lifted  up  her  hands  and  said,  "Mercy  rae, 
George,  hoo  in  a'  the  warld  can  ye  say  that  ?  This 
mornin'  ye  had  a  })icker  o'  parritch  and  a  pint  o'  milk 
to  yere  brejikfast,  and  after  that  ye  had  three  cups 
o'  tea,  without  saying  ony  thing  aboot  the  flour-scones. 
After  that  ye  had  yere  nocket,  consistin'  o'  bread  and 
cheese  and  a  bowl  o'  lajijjered  milk.  Then  ye  had  to 
yere  dinner  sheep-head  kail,  and  a  >.',eep-head,  together 
wi'  the  trotters.  To  yere  fouroors  ye  had  'taties  and 
herrin',  and  to  yere  supper  ye  had  eauld  kail  het  again. 
Now,  after  a'  that,  I  wad  like  to  ken  what  mair  do  ye 
want  ?"  "  Want,  "  quo'  George,  "  Ma  face  is  just  the 
very  picture  o'  want,  but  I  will  say  nae  mair,  as  Jenny, 
my  dear,  ye  are  a  faithful  wife,  and  a  faithful  wife  is 
the  medicine  of  life." 


ORD,  THE  CIRCUS  MAN. 

(Inscribed  to  Captaik  .Tames  Morrison,  Detroit.] 

There  cam'  a  man  to  our  gate-end, 

Who  was  with  heat  oppress'd, 
He  saw  a  public  house,  so  he 

Went  in  to  take  a  rest. 
His  coal-black  hair  was  mixed  with  grey. 

Yet  he  stood  up  erect: 
His  looks  betokened  him  a  man 

That  would  command  respect. 

He  gave  a  glance  around  the  room, 

He  saw  a  quiet  nook, 
He  sat,  then  from  his  pocket  he 

Drew  forth  a  12nio.  book. 
He  read  a  passage  here  and  there. 

Then  'gan  to  ruminate. 
And  then  he  cried:  "  Ho,  Landlord,  bring 

A  speldron  on  a  phite. 


SKETCHES   AND    ANECDOTES. 


267 


"  Your  whisky's  good,  I  Imvo  hoard  say. 

And  I  do  well  believe  it, 
8n  you  may  also  bring  to  me 

A  dram  of  your  Glenlevit." 
He  took  the  speldron  in  liis  hand, 

And  he  began  u-muucliin'. 
Wiieu  in  there  came  a  Bully-man 

Who  saw  him  at  his  luncheon. 

This  Bully-man,  the  great  George  Combe, 

Once  very  plain  did  tell  him, 
That  all  the  brains  that, he  possess'd 

Were  in  his  cerebellum. 
Now  to  descant  on  George's  words 

Is  foreign  to  my  jvlau, 
As  he  more  titly  could  describe 

This  base,  degraded  man. 

He  grabbed  the  whisky,  drank  it  down 

Without  an  observation. 
Which  act  brought  from  the  elder  man 

No  words  of  indignation. 
But  in  a  calm  and  peaceful  strain 

Cried  "  Landlord,"  when  he  came, 
He  said,  "  Be  pleased  to  bring  to  me 

Another  of  the  same." 

Tiie  Landlord  brought  another  dram, 

And  just  as  (juick  as  wink 
Again  the  Bully  seized  t»he  stoup 

And  swallowed  down  the  drink. 
The  man  looked  at  the  Bully-man, 

And  a  long  breath  he  drew. 
And  then  he  said,  "  I  don't  propose 

To  buy  more  drink  for  you." 

The  Bully  roared,  "  Come  out,  come  out. 

And  I'll  knock  out  your  brains, 
And  then  I'll  shower  ten  thousand  tears 

Above  your  cold  remains." 
The  elder  man  rose  up  and  said, 

"  I  cannot  say  you  nay:" 
Then  to  the  Landlord  he  spoke  thus: 

"Come  out  and  see  fair  play." 


i-  < 


U  (ill' . 


,<  a 


N  I'' 

I'l! 


I'    I 


I'' 


1      ( 


J   \i 


\i 


L*  1-1 


988 


SKE'miKS    AND    ANKCDOTES. 


TliP  Liindlord  said,  "  I'll « 'cn  do  that," 

And  as  the  story  j^ocs, 
To  Wf  lair  play  In;  quickly  placeil 

Ilis  specs  upon  his  nost'. 
Then  out  llicy  went  upon  the  green ; 

Before  the  Hully  wist, 
n«!  got  a  wliack  hcliiud  the-  ear, 

Another  on  the  (;hest. 

Headlong  he  r<'Ii  !     As  up  he  rose. 

With  bated  breatii,  he  stated 
Tiiat  from  the  quickness  of  tlie  round, 

He  felt  humiliated. 
The  elder  man  stood  like  a  rock, 

And  then  he  cried  '•  Beware  !  *' 
Then  quick  as  thought  the  Bully's  heels 

Were  flickering  in  the  air. 

He  slowly  gathered  himself  up, 

As  down  the  road  he  ran; 
The  victor  said,  "  He'll  fight  no  more 

With  Ord.  the  (Mrcus-man." 
The  Landlord  laughed  ii  merry  laugh, 

His  mouth  wide  open  flew; 
The  tears  rolled  down,  and  his  red  nose 

More  red  and  redder  grew. 

And  then  he  cried:  "And  are  ye  Ord  ? 

Come  in  and  for  your  pains. 
And  ye  shall  get  the  very  best 

My  public  house  contains. 
"  And  'tent  ye.  sir.  I  hope  that  knave 

Will  never  more  neglect 
To  speak  to  ehler  people  with 

Due  kindness  and  respect.' 

Now  his  guidwife  heard  these  remarks 

As  she  cam'  round  the  gable, 
She  smiled  and  then  she  sweetly  said: 

I'  The  dinner's  on  the  table." 

Ord,  the  Ciirus-tiKiii,  waH  wi'll  known  throughout  thf  length  and  breadth 
of  the  three  kingdoms.  lit'  was  lioni  in  tho  parish  of  Longforinacua,  Bor- 
wickshire,  Scotland,  wlu-ii'  his  father  was  parochial  niiiiist^r.  He  was  dBs- 
iiaed  for  the  ministry.  Ijut  pretVrred  the  circus  to  the  pulpit.  I  may  hero 
state  that  when  in  my  early  ye^rs.  though  he  was  then  past  middle  age,  I 
saw  him  at  one  tremendous  bound  leap  over  1«>  horses. 


HKKTCIiKS    AMI    AMCl  |»OTBa. 


iso 


A  FINK  SKNfSATION. 
|Tn>4.Tiho.t  to  UoiiKRT  Swan,  K*i.,  Toronto,  Ont  | 

A(!  (luy  John  Tod  cam'  doori  tlic  road, 

And  he  was  in  a  flurry , 
TwHH  easy  hccn  that  lie  was  mi 

A  most  (•(»nfo\unh'd  hurry. 
Atild  Sandy  Duncan  mot  hhn,  and 

Quo'  he,  '•  Whafsa'  the  bicker? 
I  dinna  tiiinli  that  for  your  lif«' 

Yo  could  ;,'an.if  niuckl*;  iiuickcr." 

'•  I'm  gaun,"  (juo'  he,  "  I'm  y;aun  awa'. 
To  wlierc  the  i^oodneas  kens. 
But  I'll  ne'er  stop  until  I  reach 
Earth'8  very  utmost  ends. 
"  Wl'  Nan  Ive  lived  for  forty  years, 
And  I  may  say  wi'  truth, 
Siie  has  a  tonsjue— the  vilest  tongue 
That  e'er  hung  in  a  mooth. 

"  This  day  she  opened  out  on  me, 

Jtist  like  a  raging  bear, 
Hut  faith  I  made  her  comprehend 

She'd  never  see  me  niair." 
Quo'  Sandy.  '•  What  did  Nannie  say. 

When  ye  cam'  alT  for  good  ?  " 
Quo'  John.  "  She  didna'  say  ae  word. 

But  like  a  statue  stood. 

"  Tiiank  heaven  !  her  tongue  did  come  at  Ia.st 

To  a  complete  stagnation; 
If  she  no  got  a  red-hot  sljot, 

She  got  a  tine  sensation  !  " 
But  Sandy  didna  gang  sae  far, 

A'maist  afore  he  keut, 
He  ga'e  a  groan  upon  a  stone, 

Syne  hatne  to  Nannie  went. 


breadth 
us,  Bor- 
vas  dH8- 
ay  here 
9  a^,  r 


Rkv.  JOHN  BROWN  AND  FERGU8S0N,  THE  POET. 
When   in   Canada,   some   time  ago,  mv  friend  Mr. 
Dick  handed  me  an  ohl  fimeral  letter.     It  was  thus  ad- 
dressed to  his  grandfather.     "  Mr.  Wm.  Dick,  r,o.sford 


fA 


300 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


<\     !     iV'i 


lli  '"!■     , 


Mains."  It  wa^  the  original  letter  of  invitation  to  the 
funeral  of  Dr.  John  lirown,  author  of  the  "  Dictionary 
of  the  Hihle."      It  read  thus: 

"SiK, — Mr  .luhn  Brown,  my  fatlier,  dit'd  (»ii  Tuesday  evening, 

and  is  to  be  buried  in  tlic  (■liureli-yiird  Univ.,  on  Saturday  the  2Hd 

current,  at  eleven  o'clock  fMrcnoon.     Tlic  favor  of  your  presence 

to  uecompuny  the  funeral  will  much  oblige,     Sir, 

Your  most  oiicdient  servant, 

John  Biiown. 
Haddington,  21st  June.  1787. 

Please  to  acquaint  Robert  Marshall,  .laraes  Deans,  .Tolui  White, 
James  Slieurer,  and  the  liour  is  punctually  kept  at  Hadilington." 

In  connection  with  the  above  letter,  I  niav  state  that 
I  have  in  ray  possession  a  rare  edition  of  "  Fergusson's 
Poems,"  edited  by  James  Hannington  i.iu  printed  by 
Oliver  it  Co.,  Edinburgh,  IHOO.  Facing  the  title-page 
is  a  j»ortrait  of  the  poet,  engraved  on  Hteel,  and  under- 
neath it  the  words  "OgVjurn  Sculp."  In  the  biograph- 
ical sketch  it  is  stated  that  poor  Fergusson,  when  in  a 
melanclioly  state  of  mind,  met  the  Rev.  John  Brown  in 
Haddington  church-yard.  I  quote  from  the  biography, 
K'aving  the  reader  to  decide  whether  the  words  of  gloom 
are  better  than  the  words  of  cheerfulness.  "Mr.  Brown, 
when  taking  a  walk  in  Haddington  church-yard,  met 
with  a  disconsolate  gentleman,  whom  he  did  not  know, 
walking  in  the  same  place.  They  accosted  one  another, 
and  Mr.  Brown  made  a  few  remarks,  observing,  that  in 
a  short  time  they  would  soon  be  laid  in  the  dust,  and 
that  therefore  it  was  wise  to  prepare  for  eternity."  This 
disconsolate  gentleman  was  Fergusson,  and  the  above 
encounter  happened  in  1772.  The  biographer  philoso- 
phically remarks,  "A  very  trilling  circumstance  will, 
in  particular  situations  and  states  of  the  mind,  produce 
extraordinary  consequences." 


8KETCUE8    AND    ANECDOTEK. 


291 


imder- 


How  different,  how  syiMpatlu  ic  was  the  conduct  of 
Robert  Hums.  In  the  year  17H7,  when  in  Kdinhur^jh, 
he  visited  the  Canoiwate  fhurch-vard.  When  he  came 
to  poor  Fergusson's  j;riive,  he  uncovered  Iiis  head,  and 
while  the  tear  of  conipasHion  rulU-d  d<»wn  Ills  clieel<,  he 
kneeled  upon  the  yrave,  and  with  a  fellow-feeling  klNsed 
the  clay-cold  ground. 

WIVKS  CAN  DO  NO  WKONCJ. 

[liiKcrilH'd  toTHoH.  Hk<k.  F.s<|.  Mup'^IihII,  V«.| 

Tiiere  whs  ane  wife  wlia  had  ane  man, 

And  wlien  he  tcjok  niu'  glass, 
She'd  do  lier  best  to  bottle  up 

The  tears  o'  her  distress. 
Shed  say  when  he  reoltMl  to  the  door. 

"My  dear,  I  um  so  ijlad.' 
Then  wi'  a  smile  and  cani\  wonl 

She'd  pack  him  off  to  bed. 

There  was  ane  wife  wha  had  ane  man. 

And  slie  wad  speak  unceevil. 
When  he  cam'  hamc;  she'd  make  a  din 

Enough  to  scare  the  deevil. 
She'd  look  at  him  wi'  cauld  disdain 

And  wish  she  ne'er  was  wed. 
Syne  wi'  the  porridge  spurtle,  she 

Wad  steer  him  into  bed. 

Now  Tammie  Trotter  has  ane  wife, 

Wha  looks  e'en  like  a  wraith, 
Whene'er  she  smells  the  faintest  smell 

(>'  whiskey  on  i\is  breath. 
My  faith,  her  ton<;ue  when  she  begins, 

Gets  supple  as  i  docken. 
But  what  she  says  or  what  she  does 

Had  better  not  be  spoken. 

Now  Tammie,  'gainst  his  own  guid  wife 

Would  scorn  to  be  rebelling, 
Although  he  often  wished  some  day 

She'd  loose  her  sense  o'  smelling. 


'        I 


292 


8KET<'IIKS    AND    ANECDOTES. 


I  ! 


i 


Ae  day  a  thought  struck  Tammie's  head, 

That  he  awa'  would  wend 
To  Dr.  Gunn,  and  wic  if  he 

Some  cure  would  recommend. 

He  laid  afore  him  his  complaints, 

He  told  him  'bout  hi.s  breath; 
He  told  him  how  his  wife's  ill  tongue, 

Was  lik(!  to  be  his  death. 
The  doctor  said:  "  Take  my  advice, 

And  tliat  will  strike  her  dumb, 
If  ye  above  the  wliiskey  take — 

A  glass  or  twa  o'  rum  I  " 

Then  Tammie  cried:  "That  winna  do, 

That  winna  do  ava, 
When  I  gang  hame  I'm  sure  she'd  knock 

My  head  against  tlu;  wa'." 
The  doctor  smiled,  and  then  he  said: 

"  It  is  th(!  old,  old  song, 
Your  wife  is  right,  and  right  is  might, 

Ho  wives  can  do  no  wrong." 


BROTHERS  AInD  SISTERS. 

It  has  been  frequently  thrown  in  tlie  teeth  o'  Scotch- 
men that  they  are  more  patrioti<;  abroad  than  they  are 
at  home.  I  am  somewliat  inclined  to  believe  this,  for, 
in  evidence,  at  a  debating  club  at  Jackson,  Mich.,  the 
question  under  debate  was,  "  Which  is  or  Wan  the 
Greatest  People  in  the  World  ?  "  Mackey  Neilson  rose 
and  said,  "  We  ha'e  a'  heard  this  night  a  blast  o'  wan- 
dering wind  in  praise  o'  the  auld  bletherin'  Greeks  and 
Koraans,  and  aboot  that  auld  ass  Deogenis  sittin'  in  a 
wash-tub.  I  am  sure  the  auld  fool  wad  ha'e  sat  far  mair 
comfortable  in  an  arm  chair,  but  it  just  shows  that  he 
had  nae  mair  brains  than  a  moudiwort.  We  ha'e  also 
lu^ard  aboot  Plato,  Virgil,  Horace  and  Homer.  Just  a 
[)ack  o'  mongrels,  bark,  barkin',  and  naebody  kens  what 
they   are  barkin'  aboot.     If  ye  wad   tak'  every  aue  o* 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTEH. 


30» 


them  and  row  thera  a'  thegetlior  ye  wadna'  mak'  a  Sir 
Walter  Scott  oot  o'  the  hale  batch.  We  ha'e  also  heard 
aboot  some  o'  the  ancient  women — juHt  a  eleckin'  o* 
randies  and  dirty  drabs.  What  ane  o'  them  can  com- 
pare wV  oor  ain  Grace  Darling,  Flora  McDonald,  Grizel 
Cochrane,  or  Jeannie  Deans?  Puir  Jeannie!  I  wadna' 
gi'e  oor  Scotch  Jeannie  for  a'  the  women  re(;oided  in 
history.  O,  she  was  the  (|ueen  o'  womankind.  She 
wadna'  tell  a  lee  to  save  the  life  o'  her  ain  sister.  Scot- 
land is  a  grand  nation.  A'  the  rest  o'  the  nations  may 
be  compared  to  spunks,  but  she  is  like  a  beacon  set  on 
a  high  hill  gi'en  light  to  a'  the  world.  My  certy,  she  is 
the  ane  that  wears  the  breekw.  She's  the  aiie  that  can 
cOck  her  nose  and  keej)  the  cantle  o'  the  causey.  'J'he 
mair  I  read  her  history  the  mair  I  believe  Uiat  her 
uncles  and  aunts  and  her  sons  and  daughters  are  twin- 
brithers  and  sisters  o'  the  aiio-els." 


HOW  CHANGED  ARE  THE  TIMES! 

[Inscribed  IoJamioh  If.  .Vltin,  Ksq..  Detroit  | 
How  changed  arc  the  limes  since  I  lived  wi"  my  initlicr. 
How  changed  aiv  the  times!  they  are  changed  a' thcgether; 
We  have  engines  o'  steam,  and  it's  true,  I  (hire  say, 
They  can  bowl  us  live  humlred  laug  miles  in  a  day. 
What  wi'  lolling  in  cars,  there's  a  prevailing  notion. 
That  we'll  soon  lose  the  art  o'  leg  locomotion. 
There  are  few  walking  now  to  the  kirk  or  the  ninrt, 
Or  driving  o'er  hills  and  down  dales  in  a  -art. 
How  changed  are  the  times  ! 

'Twas  griuid  in  tiie  cart  !  in  the  cart  'mang  the  strac. 
To  sit  wi'  our  lass  on  a  braw  simmer's  day. 
And  while  the  auld  horse  wad  gang  jogging  aIanl^ 
We  wad  cheer  up  our  dear  wi'  a  [)salm  or  a  sang.    ' 
'Twas  even-doon  Idiss  !  aye,  'twas  blythsotnc  and  cheei  ie, 
To  sit  'mang  the  strae  wi'  our  ain  boruiie  dearie  ! 
And  wlieu  in  our  plaidie  fu'  kitidly  we'd  roll  lier, 
She'd  cry,  "Have  a  care,  oh,  take  care  o'  my  collar  !  " 
How  changed  are  the  times  ! 


Tm 


,!,.;. 


i'  *" 


f       ■ 
,             1 

1 

1 

1 

1 

■ 

«■ 


Mt  1 


i 

'  Hi. 

• 

r 

1 

294 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


How  aften  she'd  say.  and  try  hard  to  still  u«: 
"  If  ye  rattle  ma  collar  my  mither  will  kill  us, 
Her  tongue  will  e'en  gang  like  the  clash  o'  a  mill. 
Losh  man  !  guide  us  a'  the  cart's  standin'  still  !  " 
"  Preserve  us  !  "  we'd  say,  and  afore  she  wad  wiss 
Frae  her  red  rosy  lips  we  wad  steal  a  bit  kiss, 
When  this  was  obtained  the  auld  horse  we  wad  wallop, 
Then  off  we  wad  gae  at  the  trot  or  the  gallop  ! 
How  changed  are  the  times  I 

'Fore  the  advent  o'  steam,  and  the  engines  and  cars, 
The  country  was  fu'  o'  brave  young  Lochinvars; 
How  rarely  we  now  spin  in  carts  or  in  carriages, 
Or  put  on  our  spurs  to  stop  runaw^ay  marriages. 
We  get  married  at  hame,  and  like  birds  oot  o'  jail, 
We  loup  into  a  car  and  tlee  off  on  the  rail, 
But  when  we  come  off,  how  our  cantle's  vv'c  claw, 
And  we  wish  that  we  ne'er  had  got  marrit  ava. 
How  changed  are  the  times  ! 

How  grand  were  the  times  afore  steam  was  invented. 
How  happy  we  lived;  and  we  a'  died  contented  I 
We  rejoiced  a'  the  day,  and  at  night  we  were  glad 
To  lay  oursel's  doon  on  a  braw  heather  bed. 
We're  now  civilized  I  since  we  lived  with  our  mitlicrs, 
We  now  try  to  .sleep  on  a  bed  fu'  o'  feathers; 
We  kick  and  we  plunge,  and  we  wish  frae  our  heart, 
For  the  auld  heather  bed,  and  the  straw  in  a  cart. 
How  changed  are  the  times  ! 

To  the  kirk,  on  the  Sundays,  we  a'  gade  sedate, 
And  the  auld  and  the  young  would  clank  doon  in  a  sate. 
IJut  look  at  them  noo,  no  a  lass  in  the  toon, 
But  will  fyke  half  an  hour  afore  she  sits  doon. 
We  gade  to  the  kirk  to  hear  prayers  and  preachin", 
We  now  gang  to  the  kirk  to  hear  skirlin'  and  screcchiu'; 
In  my  auld  grannie's  days,  when  I  was  a  youth, 
We  prayed  and  we  sang  wi'  our  ain  word  o'  mouth. 
How  changed  arc  the  times  I 

O,  where,  and  O.  where  is  the  auld  .spinnin'  wheel  ? 
And  where,  and  O,  where  is  the  rock  and  the  reel  ? 
They  are  either  in  garrits,  or  broken  to  Hinders, 
Or  they're  thrown  in  fires  and  a'  biunt  to  cinders. 


*i  . 


SKETCHES    AND    AXECDOTES. 


295 


O,  where  are  the  Hecklers  ?— where,  where  are  they  tioo, 
And  the  Swinglers  o'  lint  and  the  Carders  o'  woo"? 
They  are  gone,  they  are  gone,  aiifl  they've  left  us  a  stock 
That  will  neer  fill  the  shoon  o'  the  thrifty  auld  folk. 

How  changed  are  the  times  ! 
Our  hraw  linen  sarks  we  ne  cr  see  them  ava, 
Hinging  out  on  the  lic<lge.s  as  white  as  the  snaw, 
And  gone  are  our  niojcskinjs  and  corduroy  jackets, 
And  shoon  wi'  their  heel-plates,  and  tae-plates,  and  tackets, 
But  what  I  miss  warst  when  life's  at  its  close. 
Is  a  bannock,  a  scrwie,  or  a  bicker  o'  brose; 
My  faith  it  pits  me  in  an  even-doon  passion, 
To  think  that  the  bri)se  has  gane  clean  out  o'  fashion. 

How  changed  are  the  times  ! 

The  bowies  and  l)ickers,  how  well  we  auce  knew  them, 
The  auld  horn  spo(ms,  we  will  never  mair  view  them; 
Nae  mair  wi'  the  frizzle  and  tlint  we'll  strike  fire. 
Or  carry  the  l)0U(!t  at  night  to  the  l)yre. 
Alas  !  and  alas  !  never  uuiir  in  our  lives, 
We  will  see  comin'  round  the  auld  crippled  .Situnk-wives, 
Nae  mair  they  will  creep  into  barns  and  bunks. 
Or  mix  up  their  brimstone  to  dip  on  their  spuiiks. 
How  changed  .are  the  times  ! 

Our  lassies  are  no  like  the  lassies  langsyne, 
Wi'  their  silks,  and  their  satins,  and  ribbons  &ie  tine; 
I  freely  assert  it  would  add  to  their  graces, 
If  they'd  burn  their  feathers,  their  frills  and  their  laces. 
And  ply  at  the  wark  like  their  grannies  afore  them, 
And  then,  by  my  faith,  we  wad  fairly  adore  them; 
I've  been  lauld— and  it  tills  me  clean  fou'  wi'  amaze- 
That  some  o'  them  ne'er  pit  a  stitch  in  their  claes. 
How  changed  are  the  times  ! 

We're  up  in  the  buckle  !     We  have  sofas  and  loun!,ros, 
We've  l)aths,  and  we're  spliishin'  and  washin'  wi'  snungcs, 
And  it's  freely  atfirmed  that  our  Itcaus  and  our  belles 
Spend  half  o'  their  time  ornamentin'  theirsel's, 
There's  ma  grannie,  wha's  dead,  and  e'en  my  aiii  niitlier. 
Ne'er  looked  in  the  glass  frae  ae  week  to  the  it  her; 
It's  the  steam  !  it's  the  steam  '.  'tis  our  curse  and  our  bane. 
And  the  cure  is  the  auld  simple  notions  again. 
How  changed  are  the  times  ! 


s 


296 


SKETCHES    AND    ANECDOTES. 


NELL  PROUDFOOT. 
[Inscribed  toUEOROE  L.  Hull,  Esq.,  Detroit.] 

Nell  Proudfoot  was  u  Scottish  maid. 

Sweet  us  the  heather  honey; 
Though  countless  were  her  lieavenly  ehannH. 

She'd  precious  little  raoney. 
One  day  her  grannie  said  to  her. 

Whom  she  loved  with  affection, 
That  those  who  lived  an  idle  life 

Dined  in  the  devil's  kitchen. 


|i 


I 


in! 


She  ruminated  on  these  words, 

And  then  with  nimble  feet, 
She  went  and  found  employment  with 

A  wife  on  Prospect  street. 
She  lived  contented  with  this  wife. 

Who  had  got  lots  o'  siller. 
And  night  and  day  Nell  did  her  best 

To  be  real  good  until  her. 

She'd  wash  the  wife  and  comb  her  hair. 

And  when  her  work  got  .slack 
She'd  sit  down  biythly  by  her  side, 

And  sing  and  ea'  the  crack. 
To  tell  the  truth  and  shame  the  deil, 

She  was  a  canty  queen ; 
'Twould  even  cheered  up  dark  despair 

To  crack  wi'  her  at  e'en. 

She  had  long  hours,  l)ut  about  that 

Sweet  Nell  did  ne'er  complain; 
She  found  that  labor  pleasure  brought, 

While  idlonese  brought  pain. 
In  proof  of  this,  in  the  laug-syne, 

I  had  a  worthy  aunt 
Who  often  said,  "the  sluggard  is 

The  slave  of  woe  and  want. " 

One  night  the  wife  said,  "  Nell,  Pm  sure 
That  Providence  has  sent  ye, 

And  on  the  day  ye're  wed  I  will 
With  some  grand  gift  present  ye. 


SKKTCHKS    AND    ANECDOTES. 

"But.  Nell,  beware,  take  care  and  ne'er 

Get  buckled  to  a  stranger. 
As  ten  to  one  ye  will  be  forc'd 

To  hoist  the  flag  of  danger. " 

Ne?l  blushed  and  said  "  I  have  a  lad, 

And  his  first  name  is  Johnnie, 
He  is  a  butcher  to  his  trade, 

And  he's  baith  guid  and  boniiie." 
The  wife  raised  up  her  hiuids,  tlie.i  placed 

Her  feet  upon  the  fender. 
And  then  she  cried  "  tliat  is  the  cause 

Our  beef  is  now  so  tender. 

"The  beef  I  got  afore  ye  ram' 

Most  killed  me  a'  thegelher; 
When  it  was  stewed,  upon  my  soul, 

It  was  as  tough  as  leather. ' 
"If  he  should  ask  your  hand,  just  lock 

With  lamblike  resignation. 
And  tell  him  that  ye'jl  weigh' his  words 

With  due  consideration." 

One  morn  all  in  the  month  of  May, 

Nell  went  with  her  own  Johnnie! 
And  Mr.  Dickie  yoked  them  in 

The  cart  of  matrimony . 
Then  off  they  ran  to  the  auld  wife. 

And  when  they  told  their  story 
Quo'  she:  "  There's  fifty  dollars.'  and 

I'll  give  ye  more  to-morrow." 

Ring  out.  ring  out,  ye  marriage  bells. 

Ring  till  your  tongues  are  reeking- 
Ring  out  and  tell  that  Handsome  Nell 

Next  week  will  start  house-keeping. 

OUTS  AND  INS  OF  MATRIMONY. 
Ilnscribed  to  Mrs.  Jkshib  Wa.nless  Brack.) 

Auld  Nannie  Dunn  lay  on  her  bed, 

And  wow,  but  she  was  unco  ill 
For  oh,  a  thought  ran  through  her  head 

That  she  was  far  past  mortal  skill. 
«0 


397 


,1, 

I.    '• 

1 1    ■!     'n'  ; 


I     5 

^   { 

;^t 

'■>- 

;:i 

1      -i: 


q 


t   i 


5 1; 


398 


8KKT0IIE8    AND    ANECDOTES. 


'Twas  midnight,  and  her  guidnian,  John 
Fast  by  her  aide  serenely  slumber'd. 

She  (M-iod,  "  Oh,  John,  in  mercy  rise. 
For  oh,  I  doubt  my  days  are  number'd.  " 

John  rose  and  said,  "What  do  ye  want  ? " 

Siic  answered  and  the  words  maist  rluiked  her, 
'■  I  want — ye  weel  ken  what  I  want— 

Oh,  dear,  oh,  dear,  I  want  a  doctor." 
Jphn's  olaes  were  hung  on  a  chair  back, 

According  to  his  usual  plan  ; 
He  put  them  on,  unbarred  the  door. 

And  for  the  doctor  off  he  ran. 

He  rappit  at  the  doctor's  door. 

The  doctor  cried  "  Wha's  there  ? "  "John  Dunn  ; 
Oh,  come  wi'  me,  my  wife  is  ill, 

1  doubt  her  thread  o'  life  is  spun." 
The  twasome  soon  got  .on  the  trot. 

My  faith  they  hurried  up  the  street, 
They  hurried  sae  they  didna'  let 

A  blade  o'  grass*grow  'neath  their  feet. 

They  reached  the  house,  they  heard  Nan  roar : 

"Quick.  John,  oh,  me.  oh,  woe  betide," 
John  struck  a  light  and  very  soon 

The  doctor  stood  at  Nan's  bedside. 
He  felt  her  pulse,  he  saw  her  tongue, 

Quo'  he,  "  'Tis  needless  me  to  see  ye, 
I  swear  by  Claudius  Galenus 

That  there's  nae  serious  matter  wi'  ye. 

"  Now,  Mrs.  Dunn,  all  that  ye  need 

Is  just  a  dnnn  of  guid  Scotch  drink, 
'Twill  calm  your  nerves,  and  take  my  word 

Ye'U  be  a'  better  in  a  blink." 
The  doctor  went,  and  John  went  to 

The  public  house,  with  mind  at  rest ; 
The  landlord  rose,  and  soon  John  got 

A  mutchkin  o'  his  very  best. 

When  he  got  hame  he  cried  ;  "  Now,  Nan. 

Drink  this,  and  may  guid  luck  attend  ye  ; 
Just  drink  it  up.  and  I'll  be  bound 

That  it  will  very  quickly  mend  ye." 


Iin 


d." 


I'lked  her, 


>lin  Dunn : 


roar 


SKUTCHKS    ANn    AVKCrmTKS.  g99 

Shu  cried  :  "Oh,  Jolui.  tak'  it  jiwa. 

Ae  drop  ye  needna*  ofTcr  til)  me  ; 
Just  tiike  it  off;  oh.  John  !  oh.  .lohn  ' 

Its  very  smell  is  like  to  kill  me." 

John  placed  tho  bottle  to  his  mouth, 

He  wanted  neither  glass  nor  eiij), 
Without  a  word,  he  drank  it  down. 

He  didna  leave  a  single  sup. 
Then  Nannie  cried.  "  Vc  greed v  wretch 

Your  conduct  sorely  Ims  distressed  me  " 
quo'  he.  "  Ye  wadna'  take  a  drop," 

Quo'  she.  ••  Ve  sumph.  ye  might'  ha'e  pressed  me." 

Quo'  John,  "The  pressing  days  are  gane," 

Then  he  began  to  dance  and  skip. 
And  loud  he  sang  the  auld  refrain— 

"There's  many  a  slip  'tween  cup  and  lip  " 
Wi'  this  Nan's  blood  began  to  boil, 

And  up  she  rose,  and  it  is  said, 
She  got  a  rung,  and  wi'  its  help 

She  sent  him  tlying  back  to  bed. 


BRING  ME  WHAT  YE  LIKE. 

[Inscribed  to  Thoma.s  Hislop,  Esq.,  Detroit. | 

Ben  Nevis  was  a  servant-man, 

And  in  the  silent  night, 
Without  a  warning  word  began 

To  groan  wi'  a'  his  might. 
At  times  he'd  spring  clean  oot  o'  bed, 

Then  in  again  would  •whup. 
And  the  result  was  that  ho  soon 

Woke  everybody  up. 

His  master  rushed  to  his  bed-side, 

And  he  cried  out  "  Ben,  Ben, 
What's  wrang  wi'  you.  there's  inair  than  me 

This  night  wad  like  to  ken  ?  " 
Ben  Nevis  cried  "  Aneath  the  sheetn 

For  me  there  is  nae  shelter. 
To  end  my  days  I  wish  that  1 

Was  hanging  in  a  halter." 


300 


HKKTfHKK    AND    ANECDOTES. 


( 


0 

n 


■'  \j\ 


1. 1 


J 


His  mistress  in  her  bed-gown  cried, 

"  Ben,  stop,  aind  in  a  minit 
I'll  mask  some  tea,  now  let  me  ken 

What  ye  wad  relish  in  it  ? 
Wad  ye  like  sugar,  milk  or  cream, 

Plain  bread  or  buttered  toast. 
Now  speak  elear  oot  and  let  me  ken 

What  ye  wad  like  the  most  V 

' '  But  maybe  vex!  prefer  a  scone, 

A  bab  or  penny-row  ; 
Now  will  ye  wait  till  day-light  comes, 

Or  will  ye  have  theui  now  ? 
But  aiblins  3-e  wad  like  to  ha'e 

A  basin  o'  beef  tea. 
A  bowl  o'  brose  is  unco  guid 

When  charged  wi'  kitchen  fee. 

"  I  wish  ye  wail  lay  bare  your  mind, 

And  ca'  for  what  ye  please  ; 
If  1  were  in  your  shoon  I  think 

I'd  ha'e  some  bread  and  cheese. 
Oh,  Ben,  ye  look  as  if  ye  had 

Crossed  o'er  the  brig  o'  hope, 
Ben,  will  ye  ha'e  a  brandered  steak. 

Or  will  ye  ha'e  a  chop  ? 

"  If  ye  wad  only  let  me  ken, 

Right  doon  the  stairs  I'd  whup  ; 
But  first,  a  sang  frae  me  might  cheer 

Your  soul  and  body  up." 
Ben  Nevis  sighed  and  said  "Oh,  dear. 

Oh,  dinnu  make  a  fyke. 
Oh,  gang  awa  and  bring.  Oh,  bring, 

Just  bring  me  what  ye  like." 

The  master  said  "Hark,  now  guidwitc, 

Your  words  are  most  bewitchin', 
But  Ben.  my  dear,  wad  sooner  hear 

Some  music  from  your  kitchen." 
The  wife  cried,  "  Pit  your  fit  to  mine, 

And  you  and  I  will  pettle  him, 
I'll  brew  some  drink,  and  soon  ye'll  see 

That  it  will  quickly  settle  him." 

FINIS. 


1 


■t>  ^  i. 


-■J 


^^^i"^    w>.i 


